Untitled
by imafish
Summary: Unjustly exiled from Konoha after failing a mission, Hatake Sakumo finds a new life in the village of Amegakure, and a new purpose in the creation of Akatsuki. But some scars are too deep to forget. Or forgive. UNDERGOING REVISION
1. Prologue

Untitled

By Imafish

A Naruto fanfiction

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first long fanfiction ever, so please bear with me! Just a couple things to say. First, I am a serious Kakashi fan. I was looking for stories and I couldn't find any long ones about Kakashi's father. I immediately had to solve this problem! As you can tell, my story is currently unnamed. I'm at a loss. I have no idea what to name it, and I would really appreciate suggestions. As many as you can think of, seriously! I will dedicate this story to whoever gives me the winning name, so get thinking! So, reviews and name suggestions will be greatly appreciated. I appreciate reviews that tell me what you like, don't like, spelling errors, suggestions for later on, or possible improvements. If you're flaming my story just for the heck of it, you're only making my story seem more popular, retard. I will try my very hardest to see this story through to the end.

Disclaimer: No. Disclaimers are pointless. This is **fan** fiction, people.

Without further delays:

Prologue:

Funny things, candles. They seem to be the opposite of everything. Humans start out small and get bigger as they grow older. Candles, they start out tall and proud, until you light them on fire. Then they burn down, becoming a little less of what they once were with each passing second. And in the end, there's only a wisp of smoke, like a soul, finally free, and headed for a better place.

Sometimes, a merciful gust of wind, or a sympathetic sigh can lengthen their lives. But these are rare in the world we live in. There is no mercy among killers. There is no sympathy among betrayers.

I think Providence hated my family. It could have done anything to us, like poison us, or make us ill. Let us die easily. No, it's too cunning for that. The best way to make us suffer-exactly what happened to us-would have been to show us what life could have been like. And then, snatch it away. Then, it threw the war at us.

That war tore us apart. The Third Shinobi War, it's called. Don't give it a name, I protested. That makes it more real. But they did, and it was real, and it killed my teammates, disgraced my father, orphaned my siblings, and then… It left. It vanished, and left us to bear the wound of wars. At least we had each other. Being together helped, even if it made it more painful when we began to die.

There were almost no chances to look out for each other, but still, we tried. One of my brothers tried to save our sister. He was the first to die. Seventeen years old, forcing his brother's hand to wield the knife in order to save her. He loved her. We all knew it, and he knew it as well. That was his downfall. I was two years younger at the time, and I never even learned that I had a brother, let alone two brothers and a sister until I was in my late twenties, early thirties. And I didn't really meet them in favorable circumstances.

But I'm being unfair. I'm telling the story without starting at the beginning. Maybe that's because I just want to get this over with and go out there and die.

I'll start with the mission.

I was six years old. A chunin.

A lit match hovered over my father's candle.

Have you heard this story before? You probably have. The White Fang of Konoha was famous, once. I'll tell you about it quickly, because we don't have much time.

It was the very beginning of the war. You know, the one that Providence sent to spite us. My father was sent into enemy territory on a crucial mission. There, he was forced to choose between the lives of his teammates, and the completion of the mission. He chose to do the brave thing.

He abandoned the mission, and decided to live with the consequences of his actions. But he didn't know that the village he loved would turn on him like a pack of dogs fighting over a bone. He didn't know that the comrades he treasured would forget what he'd done for them, and blame him in their grief that they were going back to war.

No one realized that he was going off the deep end. Not me. Not Jiraiya. Hell, even old man Sarutobi didn't pick up on it.

And then, after the most crucial battles were over, the council dropped the bombshell. We have no need for a traitor in our village, they said. The Hokage was given the final decision. Exile or death. Old Sarutobi, he believed in second chances. He chose exile. Looking back on it, I really wish he'd had my father killed.

* * *

Nine years is a long time.

Even longer when you have nowhere to go.

* * *

Hatake Sakumo brushed his wet silver bangs out of his sun burnt face and gazed with contempt at the impoverished village before him. It was a mark of the village's weakness that no one was posted at the gate, but all the better for him. Staying under the radar keeps you a step ahead of the bounty hunters.

The man made his way to the gates, his lean form blending in perfectly with the dark wood. He wore loose black clothing in a style worn by shinobi all over the world. It was faded by the sun, as he'd made his way here from Sunagakure. His long silver hair was dulled from dust and travel, and hung in a scraggly, unwashed ponytail. Wary black eyes peered from a thin, sharp face. His headband was tied firmly around his head, the clear, uncut surface an act of defiance. Most missing-nin would have slashed through it, but the former White Fang was not a missing-nin by choice. And there would be no cut through his forehead protector until the day that he truly left the village behind.

Once again, he found helplessness and despair pressing down onto him, until he was almost drowning beneath the weight of so many painful memories. No, he told himself firmly. Don't think about Konoha. Don't think about what you had to leave behind. Most of all, don't think about your son…

Sakumo shoved the lingering memories out of his mind and found himself walking down a practically deserted street. There were only a few people about, huddled under umbrellas. They were either tending to the small stalls, or trying to steal from them.

Again, Sakumo found himself full of contempt for the miserable village and the starving people.

" Where's the fight?" he murmured aloud to himself, dark eyes glaring with distaste at his pitiful surroundings. "If you don't want to live, why don't you just lie down and die?" His lips creased into a thoughtful frown. "But then again," he mused, "Maybe this is their act of defiance. Living. Surviving as the remnants of the past that Hanzo so desperately wants to destroy."

Had any villager been close enough to hear, they would have found the one-sided conversation quite strange, but to Sakumo it was as natural as breathing.

It had been nine years since Konoha had exiled him for a crime that in his grief he had convinced himself he had not committed. For nine years he had wandered the lands, without purpose, without direction, without a reason to live. And he had nearly ended his life many times over the years, but to die would be cowardly, and Hatake Sakumo had never taken the coward's way out.

But purpose was on its way, and it would come to him in the shape of three lost children.

* * *

Early nightfall found Sakumo still wandering the dreary village. It had been raining since mid-morning and he was by now thoroughly soaked, miserable, and no closer to finding anywhere to spend the night.

Finally, he gave up and sat down in a dirty alley, wrapping his dark cloak around himself. He huddled behind a pile of debris, making sure to have a good view of the entrance to the alley. But sleep caught up to him, and he was out in minutes, his tanto clutched in his big hands like a child's toy.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Sakumo, further down the same alley were three sleeping forms, hidden by an overflowing dumpster. All three were swathed in black cloaks with high collars, and sported battle hardened armor, topped by Amegakure headbands. A worn katana lay at the feet of the man in the middle, but he could scarcely be called a man. All three were young, far too young to be leading a rebellion against one of the strongest ninjas alive.

They were dozing lightly, heads resting on each other's bony shoulders with a deep exhaustion that screamed of days on the run and barely enough food to survive. The same sadness was present on all of their faces even in sleep, the pain of a broken childhood and the harsh realities of war.

And yet, at least they had each other. For now.

With a start, the girl on the end woke. Her head lifted gently from her friend's shoulder and rain dripped from her spiky hair, which was a startling shade of blue. Her sapphire, heavily lidded eyes surveyed her two friends before she stepped cautiously around the dumpster. The girl's black cloak helped her blend easily into the shadows and she moved with a grace that screamed 'ninja'. Her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of a dark form huddled against the wall near the alley's entrance.

She moved back to her friends and crouched in front of one of them. Placing a thin hand over the nearest one's mouth, she shook him awake. The boy woke silently, and his eyes narrowed in puzzlement at the girl. Waving for him to follow, she pointed out the man asleep farther down the alley. The boy's eyes widened when he saw the fearsome sword that the figure was holding. The boy hastily reached down and grabbed his own katana, buckling it onto his belt under his cloak, which was identical to the girl's. He had spiky, gravity-defying orange hair and bright eyes that seemed to sparkle even in the darkness surrounding them. He stood protectively by his friends while the blue-haired girl went to shake the last member of their trio awake. He woke just as quickly as his friends, and quickly leapt to his feet upon seeing their serious expressions. He was of moderate height, with red hair a couple shades darker than his friends, and strange eyes. They were bright crimson, containing a series of rings, like ripples on a pond.

The boy with the katana motioned for them to follow and crept down the alley towards the sleeping man.

* * *

Sakumo woke with a blade under his chin. Anyone else might have panicked, but Sakumo was in this situation commonly enough and he merely lifted his eyes to his opponent's face, noting the disappearance of his tanto. They'd managed to remove it from his grasp without waking him. Impressive.

The boy standing over him could not have been any older than eighteen. He had bright outlandish hair that would scream 'kill me' on a battlefield, but then again, silver hair was sort of out there as well. Two children who were around the same age flanked him, and Sakumo noted that bright hair colors appeared to be the trend in their little gang. He raised an eyebrow silently.

"Who are you?" the boy with the sword demanded roughly. "Do you work for Hanzo?"

Rather than answer, Sakumo chose to shove the blade away from him and leap to his feet. The boy recovered quickly and swung his sword, but the former White Fang protected his throat at the cost of a cut to his arm. Meanwhile, the others were already moving. The other boy wielded Sakumo's tanto with ease, moving in from the other side. Sakumo deflected the sword with a kunai, and kicked out hard at the boy in front of him. The boy managed to jar his leg, but was still thrown violently into the alley wall. He parried another blow from the sword, _but where was the girl? _

He got his answer a minute later, as he was engulfed in a hailstorm of- _is that_ _paper_? The cuts from the paper stung, and more began to wrap itself around his arms in an attempt to hold him still. He dodged, throwing a vicious punch at the boy with his sword, still looking around for the girl.

" You're pretty good, kids," he commented, ducking a blow that would have severed his head, and rolling away from the storm of paper. "Out of curiosity, who are you?"

"The ones who are going to free this country," the boy who was obviously the leader shot back at him. "And we're going to kill anyone who sides with the bastard ruling it now."

Sakumo tutted sarcastically. "No one likes a potty-mouth, kid."

He regretted it a moment later, when a fist collided with his ribcage.

For a moment, they all stood back and assessed one another, breathing heavily. Sakumo glanced at the entrance to the alley, hoping that the noises wouldn't attract any more attention. He knew he had to finish this quickly. It didn't matter that they were only children, that they stood no chance. That they might even be the same age as Kakashi…

"You're from Konoha." the boy holding Sakumo's tanto spoke for the first time. "Why are you here?'

"I'm not from Konoha anymore," Sakumo retorted. "Look, kids, give that back and I'm willing to let you live." He gestured angrily at his sword.

"Has Hanzo called in reinforcements from other villages?" the girl asked suddenly, her head and torso suddenly floating in the air behind the boys. Sakumo stared at her in surprise.

"Look, I don't know. I don't care about Hanzo and I'm being hunted so I'd appreciate it if I could get my sword back. And why the hell would he call in reinforcements? He already rules the freaking village! And you're a little young to be talking about 'freeing the village' It's probably past your bedtime, kid, so run back home before your parents get worried."

The boy with the lighter hair assessed him coldly. "If the adults are too afraid to revolt, we will. And I'm an orphan. We all are. You are an outsider, no one expects you to know about this sort of thing. Nagato, give him the sword."

Nagato tossed the sword to Sakumo, who caught it neatly. The other redhead turned to go. The paper formed the girl's legs and cloak and she landed lightly on the grimy floor. Sakumo watched them go, wondering inwardly if he should say something.

"Are you forming a rebellion? Just the three of you?" He threw the question at their retreating backs.

"No, there's more of us," the girl answered warily, as all three turned back to face him.

"And you plan on liberating this country? Overthrowing Hanzo?"

"Yes". Was the sharp reply.

"Well," Sakumo took a step closer. "If you plan on defeating Hanzo, it seems like you need some help from someone on a closer level to Hanzo."

The boy was evidently losing patience. "Who are you?'

Sakumo swung his tanto into a salute, the blade glowing eerily with the infamous white chakra. "Hatake Sakumo, the former White Fang of Konoha at your service. I'm interested in joining your little rebellion."

"Why?" the boy asked bluntly.

"I've traveled for nine years. I've been a missing-in for all that time, without a purpose. This could be my purpose. I want a cause to support again. I want a reason to fight."

The boy moved closer. "The White Fang of Konoha, you say?" One corner of his lips curled upward slightly. "You're in."


	2. New acquaintances

Untitled Chapter 1

By Imafish

A Naruto fanfiction

A/N: Hey everyone!! I'm back! First of all, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!!!! To the people who added me to favorites, or story alert, I love you guys too, but I'd love you even more if you reviewed… hint hint, nudge nudge… Anyway! I've gotten some great name suggestions, and I'm really grateful. Not gonna name the story until I have more suggestions, but thank you all so much, 'cause I have no clue what to name it. Anyway, same as always. Review, tell me you love my story, and ENJOY!

Btw, special thanks to RayneXHatake for the first review and a lot of helpful feedback!! This chapter's for you!!

Chapter 1: New Acquaintances

They're really jumpy.

It's one of the first things that Sakumo notes about his new companions. They've got the same hunted expression in their eyes, which flicker nervously at every small sound. But being the leaders of a rebellion against Hanzo himself, he supposes they've got very good reason to be so nervous.

Leaders of the rebellion. It really surprises him that children so young-"seventeen"- he is told haughtily when he asks, are already leading a rebellion. And it annoys him when he realizes that he's already feeling protective of them.

Finally they tell him their names. Yahiko is the leader, and although he puts on a very detached front, his natural good humor shows through. Konan is the girl, and she's incredibly sweet, an usual trait among war-orphans such as them. She's the one Sakumo talks to most, while Yahiko leads them to some destination that only he knows. Nagato is the last boy. Quiet and subdued, he mutters his name only when Sakumo asks and moves a little closer to Konan.

Apparently his old friend Jiraiya of the Sannin trained them. There's a little confusion when this comes up, and they ask after Jiraiya with surprisingly frosty demeanors. The three don't seem all that disappointed when he says that he hasn't seen the sannin since he was exiled. Sakumo guesses that Jiraiya hasn't been forgiven for leaving them yet.

"So how many rebels do you have assembled?" Sakumo asks Yahiko, long legs keeping up easily with the boy's shorter stride.

The kid mumbles something, and Sakumo realizes that they don't have anyone else in on this. The jounin raised his eyes to the cloud-covered sky and wonders silently what he'd gotten himself into.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It's to a surprisingly comfortable little cabin that Yahiko leads them. The little house is just on the outskirts of the village, and Sakumo wonders aloud why they spent the night in Ame yesterday.

"We were looking for others," Konan tells him plainly. Then she smiles and he likes the little girl already because she can still smile. "I guess we got really lucky, running into you."

"How long did Jiraiya train you?" Sakumo asks casually as they sit down on neat wooden chairs and a slightly faded sofa. There's a picture over the fire of the three children with Jiraiya, and he wonders if he's being insensitive, bringing up what might still be a raw wound to them. "From what I saw, you three are pretty capable."

He means it kindly, but Yahiko looks slightly affronted. "Three years."

The boy pauses for a moment, and Sakumo sees that there's something he wants to say. Finally, he talks in a strained voice. "Sakumo-san, I think that you need to realize what you're getting into with this. Not that I don't want you in our group. But it could take years, and maybe this is suicidal." At this, he gets to his feet, and makes his way to the window. "Maybe we're idiots, rushing to our well-deserved deaths. But we have no life anyway, and I really think we can do this. I think that this is meant to be part of our contribution to this corrupt world."

"Only part of your contribution? Isn't liberating the people enough?"

"It's only the beginning." Yahiko lifts his handsome face and stares vacantly out the window. "I have a dream. I envision a world without war, without suffering, orphans or pain. And I believe that the three of us have the means to make my vision a reality. We have power. We have motives. We have the most important quality of all; we have empathy. We know what it means to hurt, to fall asleep curled behind trashcans afraid that the next day may be our last. We understand the pain of watching our loved ones cut down before our eyes, and being unable to save them because we aren't strong enough. Now that we're strong enough, we can't just stand by and watch others go through our pain. Sakumo-san, one day my life will flash before my eyes. I want it to be worth watching. This is what we were brought into this world to do."

Nagato and Konan watch their friend in silence. Sakumo thinks that this speech is inspiring, but idealistic, and he doesn't hesitate to tell the boy.

Yahiko shrugs, turning back towards his companions. "Call it what you will. This is my dream, and maybe you'll believe differently in the new era that will accompany its completion."

Sakumo laughed. It was the first time he had in years, and it felt good to know that he still remembered how. "I like you, kid. But I doubt I'll live long enough to see your new era."

Yahiko shrugs again, and surprisingly enough, it is Nagato who speaks.

"Don't die anytime soon, Sakumo-san. I don't think he intends for it to take a long time."

Sakumo laughs again, and this time Konan joins in.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He is politely offered the living room to spend the night when they're done talking. The three of them show him briefly around the small house and settle into their own, shared bedroom. It feels good to sleep under a roof again and Sakumo lies awake thinking for a little while.

It's been years since he's had anyone to talk with besides brief conversations with shop venders, and temporary employers. It pains Sakumo to admit it to himself but he already knows that he likes these kids, and they're just what he needs to break him out of his shell. It's the father in him that tells him that he needs naïve children such as these to take care of, and whether he believes in Yahiko's dream or not, would it really hurt to be a part of this new era that they seem so determined to bring about?

_I'll protect them,_ he vows to himself silently._ This time, I won't lose the ones I care about._

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Every day is the same. Go out; ask around while trying not to attract attention. Find the ones who are unsure, or avert their eyes when asked if they really believe in Hanzo's ideals. It disgusts Sakumo that no one will just say that yes, they hate Hanzo, yes they'd love to kill him, and no, they're not afraid to fail.

But he looks at his companions' determined faces and knows that they're not planning on failure. What else could one expect from Jiraiya's students?

They spend a lot of time together, recruiting (or trying to), as well as training. Gradually they come to trust him, and without a word their little group expands to four.

Soon, they've got several more people who are at least willing to admit that they don't agree with Hanzo. It's a novel experience for the three teens to have people following their orders and they don't disappoint. More people are coming forward, and before long they have a group of about twenty assembled. It's better than nothing, and Yahiko, Konan and Nagato are thrilled. Sakumo cautions them however; word travels in such an enclosed village, and there's little doubt in their minds about how Hanzo deals with threats to his rule.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ironically, it's during training that they all relax the most with each other. Several months after Sakumo first joins their group, he and Yahiko have established a daily training schedule while Konan and Nagato search for willing rebels.

One such evening found the two of them in a small clearing nearby the house.

"Did you find anyone today?" Yahiko asks casually, launching a quick clump of shuriken to Sakumo's left, forcing him to dodge.

"Not today," the jounin answers, spinning away from the boy's follow-up strike and throwing a quick punch. "I've been thinking about trying to find help from out of town."

"But anyone we recruit from other villages will have no reason to fight," Yahiko returns, catching his fist and kicking out hard.

"_I_ did," Sakumo replies wryly. "Traveling mercenaries, that's what we need. Scrap together some funds and we at least stand a stronger chance. We're doing well now, but we need some ninja with more battle experience then the renegades of the village." He ducked the kick and rolled away, neither of them bothering with ninjutsu.

"Maybe," Yahiko responds thoughtfully, his face creased with concerns that no child of his age should have to deal with. He quickly tries to dodge as the jounin attacked with a quick flurry of punches. "What the hell am I even considering for? If they can help us, great. We need all the help we can get. I mean, you're strong, and the three of us are fairly capable," Sakumo snorted at the vast understatement, "but the ninja we have now don't stand much of a chance against Hanzo's men."

"It's not the men I'm worried about," Sakumo answers, catching the younger man in the chin with a quick punch that knocked him backwards. He pauses in concern but Yahiko rolls with the blow and lands on his feet, retaliating immediately. "It's the old man himself. We're good, but he's better." He fell silent, mind quickly assessing the possible ways to take Hanzo down. "Poison wouldn't be honorable but it would get the job done, and that's all we need at this point. But getting it past all of the security and ninja, that's the issue."

"I agree," Yahiko replies, "the way I see it, the only way we can get Hanzo out of his hidey-hole is to either pick a fight straight out and hope that he comes to face us personally, or lay siege to the city, get his men occupied and break into his quarters."

"Hanzo is vain," Sakumo is quick to reply, "his arrogance could be the necessary weapon to use against him in order to lure him out. If we challenge his rule, he's going to eliminate us personally in order to get the point across that no one can defeat him. And at this point, no one can. Better shinobi have tried and failed, Jiraiya, Tsunade and Orochimaru being classic examples."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"I say we send out a challenge. Tell him that his days are numbered, something cliché like that. Just give the impression that you want him dead, that'll be easy enough. Leave him wondering who we are and growing uncertain about our abilities. Then, strike when he's at his most uncertain and take him down. I suggest we lay siege to the village, like you said. But we need a lot of help and we aren't nearly strong enough yet to take down Hanzo. It'll take time, but that's all I've got to suggest right now."

They both stepped back, minds evaluating the possible outcomes of such actions. Suddenly, Nagato bursts into the clearing. His face is flushed and sweat rolls down his pale skin. He bends over, placing both hands on his knees, trying to speak.

"Nagato?" Sakumo and Yahiko both run to his side. "What's wrong?" Yahiko demands, because something is clearly very wrong. Tears rest on the lids of Nagato's rinnegan eyes and as they watch, one rolls down his pale cheek.

"K-Konan," he manages, trying frantically to gulp down mouthfuls of air. "They took Konan!"

"What?!" Yahiko yells, at the same time that Sakumo demands "Who?!"

"Hanzo's men! They took her!"

Sakumo darts across the clearing, and snatches up his tanto from its place under a tree. He quickly slides on the sheath and all three of them race from the clearing, praying that everything will be all right, that they get there in time.

_I promised to protect them_, Sakumo thinks fiercely to himself, sprinting after the children, _his_ children. _We're coming, Konan._

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Years later _

_Hatake Sakumo stands at the edge of a cliff overlooking Amegakure. Alongside him stands Uchiha Madara and as Sakumo glances to the side he feels like he is looking at sin itself. _

"_Here they come now," Madara announces, a pleased smirk curling his aristocratic lips. _

_Sakumo forces himself to look away and focus on the path in front of them. Two figures make their way towards them and even from the distance Pain's spiky hair is unmistakable. As the Leader of Akatsuki and his partner come into view, Sakumo looks at Yahiko's pierced face and emotionless expression and knows him well enough to know that Nagato is utterly spent, but unwilling to show any emotions in front of the demon before them. Konan's blue eyes are underlined with dark circles from lack of sleep but as always, her face is entirely devoid of emotion. Sakumo wonders when he last saw her smile, and realizes with a jolt that he's forgotten what it looks like. _

_Madara steps forward to greet his subordinates and Sakumo remembers a distant promise to protect them. He spits on the rocky ground in disgust. _

_Once a failure, always a failure._

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: It's kinda fillerish, I know. Sorry!!

Btw, just to make this clear, I'm not making some epic time-skip. The above section was just a prelude to later chapters in the story. I'll try to update soon. PLEASE REVIEW!! Also, maybe it was too early to have Sakumo start thinking about the three as his children, but they've known each other for the couple of months that I was too lazy to write. Besides, he misses his own son, and Yahiko, Nagato and Konan are the first real attachments he's had in years. Poor guy. If only he knew what was coming, sniff.

Btw, Kakashi is on his way, for all of you who want me to hurry up and get to him. Not that anyone's said that. But I want myself to hurry up and get to Kakashi. Of course, I haven't had all that many reviews… So hurry up! : )


	3. The second pain

Untitled

Chapter 2: The second pain

A/N: Hi everyone! I know this took a little longer than usual to update, so sorry. I had a little trouble planning this chapter out, because I was really conflicted between ideas. I basically have the ending to this story planned out, but no clue about the beginning. Anyway, to everyone who reviewed, thank you! You guys are my inspiration to update and continue this story. I've had some great name suggestions and I'm starting to narrow them down, but I'd still like more suggestions. Anyways, I was really unsure about how to start this chapter, so I immediately decided to write about someone who is an inspiration to us all, an amazing manga character and really, really hot. Take it away, Kakashi!

This chapter is dedicated to my annoying sister who is trying to smother me with a pink quilt as I write these words. The things I put up with for you guys.

* * *

The sun has yet to show its burning face over the horizon, but already he finds himself walking along a dirt trail. He weaves between the ancient trees, never once glancing down to verify that he is still going the right way.

He doesn't have to. He knows this trail better than his own face.

The wind ruffles his messy hair playfully and he flinches violently. That touch reminds him too much of Sensei. He wraps his thin arms around himself, chilled because he didn't take the time to stop at his apartment and grab a coat. The blue mask hangs bunched-up around his neck.

He pads through the trees as silently as one of his dogs, and finally enters a clearing.

"I'm here," he calls quietly.

In front of the large stone that dominates the lonely clearing, two people turn accusingly towards him. His breath catches in his throat and he moves towards them uncertainly.

"You're late, Kakashi," the foremost figure informs him carelessly.

She steps forwards, tossing her chocolate brown hair over her thin shoulders. Rin's dark eyes gaze at her one-time teammate before turning away as if she is a fox and he is a mouse that she cannot be bothered to catch.

No, he corrects himself silently. Not a fox.

Obito has moved as well, and Kakashi is silently amazed that the Uchiha has managed to stay silent for so long.

"Kakashi," Obito says seriously, his single dark eyegazing over Kakashi's shoulder. "We have something to tell you. All three of us."

Kakashi realizes then why Obito stares over his shoulder like that. Why his teammates look so upset. Then he feels a presence behind him and his head snaps around so quickly that it is a wonder that his neck doesn't break.

The Fourth Hokage steps past his immobile student as if he cannot see him. Cannot see his mismatched eyes widen with agony and loss, or his already pale face drain of blood.

He doesn't see Hatake Kakashi's clumsy arms reach out to wrap around him and hold on to the only _true_ father he'd ever known. The only father who hadn't left him.

Namikaze Minato's sky-blue eyes are fixed determinedly on something in the distance; something that he alone can see. To his horror, Kakashi sees a flash of red reflected in the Yondaime's eyes, and knows that it is one of the Kyuubi's tails.

"Sensei," Kakashi pleads desperately, trying to grasp the sleeve of his teacher's white trench coat. His hand passes through it and he turns to Obito and Rin for help.

But he's too late.

They smile sadly, and suddenly he is on his knees, retching emptily as an invisible force pins Obito to the ground. Half of his body is crushed, and in a rare moment of courage, the loudmouthed Uchiha doesn't cry. Rin's hands clutch her stomach and she throws up in a violently deluge of blood as an invisible katana impales her. Sensei's reaction in the worst of all. He merely crumbles to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Kakashi's hands come up to clutch his head as he shakes with sobs. One hand reaches blindly out and brushes the newly carved words in the Memorial stone.

_Namikaze Minato_

* * *

The three shinobi burst from the woods with a speed that rivaled lightning. Yahiko automatically moved to the front as they took in the scene before them.

A low cliff rose up before them, and with horror Sakumo realized that they were in an excellent position to be ambushed. On top of the cliff stood a group of shinobi. They wore the rebreathers of Hanzo's personal guard, with the exception of a small group that stood slightly to the side.

All of a sudden, Nagato and Yahiko moved simultaneously away from Sakumo. With a quick glance, he realized why. The group that stood apart were all wearing the Konoha symbol, and he understood instantly how this seemed to the teenagers. A strange man comes to them suddenly, claiming to be a missing-nin, but without having slashed through his headband. Groups of ninja from said stranger's village are present at what appears to be a very well planned out ambush. Hook, line, and sinker.

The former White Fang turned immediately to the two rebels. "This isn't what it looks like," he murmured under his breath, eyes never leaving the group of shinobi that stood amassed on the cliff. More shinobi were moving out from the trees and in an instant, they were surrounded.

"Don't lie to us, Sakumo!" Yahiko shot back angrily, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of his missing friend. "How long have you been planning to stab us in the back? Why do the adults we trust always betray us?!"

Sakumo opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a cold voice.

"Well, rebel leader. This is indeed an honor." Sakumo raised his eyes to the cliff wall in despair. The reaper was here.

Hanzo was stepping through his men. The tyrant wore his usual ensemble, long blond hair streaming out from beneath his rebreather. One scar decorated his right cheek, and Sakumo could almost see his sneer from beneath the metal monstrosity that covered his face.

He was dragging Konan behind him.

Her long blue hair had fallen from its tidy bun and was hanging limply over her shoulders, and her light eyes had trouble focusing on the trio. Sakumo guessed that they'd either hit her, or drugged her.

"I don't wish to cut our meeting short," Hanzo stated arrogantly. "But I am not one to mince words, boy. Who are you to think that you could hope to stand against me, Hanzo of the Salamander?"

Yahiko stared back, not the least bit cowed by the presence of the legend that was staring him down. "At the moment, I'm just a boy who wants to save his friend." Here he nodded his head towards Konan, who stared dizzily down at him. "But when I kill you, old man," his voice hardened with hatred, "I will be a god."

"Brave words from one so young," Hanzo answered with disdain, "But I don't intend to die today."

He suddenly yanked Konan in front of him and pinned her arms to her sides with one armor-clad hand. With the other, he raised a kunai to her throat.

"You!" His voice rang out powerfully over the assembled shinobi. "Boy with the dark hair."

Nagato started as he realized that he was being addressed, and glared his hatred up at the man who held all of the cards at the moment.

Hanzo stared back coldly, then his face creased with cruelty and murderous intent.

"Kill your leader," he ordered. "Or the girl dies."

"No!" The word burst it's way out of Sakumo's lips before he could stop it, and he took a step in towards Nagato and Yahiko.

"You stay back, White Fang," Hanzo ordered in a harsh voice. "Or would you like to kill him yourself?"

Sakumo couldn't move, couldn't breath, as Nagato turned to face his friend. One of his hands made it's way down to his kunai holster, and he stared with indecision at Yahiko, before looking back at Konan. The boy's face crumpled in pain as his strange eyes moved between his friends.

He pulled a kunai from his holster, held it up, but whether he intended to kill Yahiko or himself, no one would ever know. For at that moment, Yahiko crossed to his friend. He opened his arms, as if to embrace his friend, and made the decision for Nagato.

He impaled himself on the kunai that his best friend still held.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Konan started to scream, and Sakumo lunged at the two boys as if to break up a children's fight, but it was already far too late.

Nagato stared in dumb shock at the blood dripping from Yahiko's chest. The seventeen-year old rebel leader smiled at his stunned friend in a moment of bloody triumph.

Konan took the opportunity to wrench herself free of Hanzo's grip. With a look of distain he let her go. Tears cascaded down her pale cheeks as she raced down the side of the cliff.

Sakumo was frozen. He had scarcely promised himself that he would protect them, and now Yahiko was dying. For a moment, he couldn't move. Then he moved to pull them apart, and Konan caught Yahiko in her arms as he fell from Nagato's grasp.

Sakumo wracked his brain for anything, any jutsu that could save the child bleeding his life out before him. He couldn't let anyone else die, but his mind knew what his heart could not accept. It was already over.

Konan laid Yahiko gently out on the ground. He coughed, blood running over his lips, and opened his eyes faintly, but they were already hazy with death.

"It's pitiful really," Hanzo was still gloating from his position on top of the cliff. "He really believed me. But today, this rebellion is over. And today we take down the legendary White Fang of Konoha."

Sakumo was still kneeling next to the dying teenager. But at the scathing words from the demon above them, he leapt to his feet, drawing his tanto.

"Very well, then Hanzo," Sakumo snarled, grinning his hatred at the very embodiment of evil. "Shall we see how one legend fares against another? Or are you going to hide behind your men as they do your dirty work for you?"

"Better ninja then you have fallen to my strength," Hanzo replied, "But security is the greatest enemy. Why should I fight you when I could simply sit back and watch you die?"

Sakumo opened his mouth to reply, but was abruptly cut off as a hand pulled him down to the ground. Konan yanked him down next to Yahiko as the seventeen year old rebel leader attempted to speak through the blood running from his lips.

"Sakumo-san…" he coughed weakly, spraying blood over said man's face, "I'm sorry… To have doubted you…" He broke off, eyelids fluttering in an attempt to stay open. "You'll see it through, won't you?"

And Sakumo didn't have to ask what he meant. His mind went immediately to the day that Yahiko told him about his dream.

Leaning over Yahiko, he took one of the boy's limp hands and clutched it firmly. "As God is my witness, Yahiko, there will be peace. We will stand at the head of this new era. And we will remember you."

"Thank you," he whispered back, and then his eyes went to Konan. "Konan, you have to survive. You're an angel… and the world needs as many of those as it can get." She nodded silently, tears burning their way down her pale cheeks. Finally, Yahiko turned to the last member of the group. "Nagato, you are… the Messiah… You will bring about peace." Here his voice sounded choked, as if he was fighting back tears. "Don't let them fight anymore, Nagato. Don't let them…"

His head fell limply to the ground, and with horror, Sakumo felt his hand go limp.

"Yahiko!" Konan screamed, and they'd almost forgotten about Hanzo until he spoke again.

"What a pity," he sneered at the body that lay between them. "In ten years he could have been just like me."

Nagato and Sakumo both leaped to their feet, Konan cradling the still-warm body of their friend.

It was Nagato who attacked first. But he was not the Nagato that they knew and loved.

He attacked with all the brutality of a wild animal. He tore through their ranks in an attempt to kill Hanzo, but the man was not a fool. Hanzo knew when to retreat. And he knew that if he stayed to fight the grieving boy and the furious man, he would be killed.

In the end, they were alone.

* * *

_Hours later_

They sit in two wooden chairs. Both chairs are equally hard and uncomfortable, but that doesn't stop Konan from falling asleep almost instantly. Her head rests against Sakumo's shoulder. He is awake. He does not want to dream about the horrors of the day.

Nagato lies on the bed before them. The boy is thin and emaciated. Thick black poles that stick out from his back force him to lie on his side. His dark red hair hangs limply over his thin, sharp face and it has been many hours since he'd last been conscious. Now they rest in a small medical facility on the outskirts of Rain.

Sakumo stares listlessly at the two children, who could be dying for all he knows. But a nurse comes every half hour and reassures him that the girl will be fine. The boy is in an unknown state, they tell him reluctantly.

When the wooden door slides open a few minutes later, he looks up immediately, anticipating a nurse or a doctor. Instead, in comes a stranger.

His black hair is thick and spiky, hanging down over his muscular body. He wears black clothes covered in filthy red armor, and a large fan is strapped to his back. A strange orange mask conceals his face from view. There is a single eyehole, and black markings swirl towards the black hole.

He walks in confidently, as if he owns the small room. The man in the mask pulls a wooden chair up to Nagato's bedside, and sits down across from Sakumo and Konan, who is just starting to stir. The orange mask stares in silence at the still boy on the bed, before turning towards Sakumo. He watches the jounin's face warily for a moment, before the mask tilts down again and continues watching Nagato.

But it is Konan whom he addresses first.

"Tell me, girl, do you know why I'm here?"

She watches him for a long moment before replying. "If you wanted me to know, you would tell me."

He laughs at that, a rumble building up beneath the mask before falling out in a cruel sound that mimics thunder. The harsh voice speaks again, this time to Sakumo. "A bold girl, she is."

"She is also right," Sakumo answers. He is too tired to fear this strange man.

"Then I'll tell you." He doesn't immediately though, and he continues to contemplate the boy on the bed. Finally, he talks again. And what he says freezes them both. Four words.

"I have a dream."

* * *

A/N: Hee hee! Cliffhanger, sort of!! Anyway, if you're wondering why I didn't write the whole battle scene with Hanzo, I didn't think that it was necessary. I just wanted to get straight to Madara. Anyhoo, this is pretty important. In the prologue, I say that Yahiko dies when he's nineteen. WRONG! He was 17! I'm going to go back and change that, but just wanted to tell you so you don't read this chapter and be all like: WTF?! Also, this chapter was called the second pain because Pain always says that losing Yahiko was the second pain in his life. Anyway, same as always! I look forward to your reviews and I appreciate name suggestions! Thanks for reading!


	4. The Man in the Mask

Untitled Chapter 3: The man in the mask

A/N: Hello, everyone! To make up for the lateness of the last chapter, I've decided to try to get this one out early. I'm not too sure about the pace of the story, because it seems to be going a little too quickly. But I have been told that I'm going at a good pace, and anyways, I want to get going with all the Akatsuki stuff. Okay, same as always. I love my reviewers and readers, and please review and give out more title suggestions. I don't really want to name the story until I've got more ideas, but if that takes too long I'll just go ahead. I've narrowed down the suggestions from Blacknayami, RayneXHatake and Obsidian Fire (who are amazingly awesome people) to a few names that I really like. More suggestions would be great though! Also, I've tried to make it clear that Madara really isn't in his right mind. Hope that was obvious. Anyway, I've talked enough!

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who is reading it at the moment. Luv ya all!!

* * *

"_I have a dream."_

* * *

Words can be powerful. Men have no need of swords, or death when they know how to wield words. Sticks and stones can break bones, but words can touch and hurt and murder in a way that weapons can never hope to achieve. Words cut straight to the soul.

The man in the mask is the embodiment of power. Picture a chess game. It usually takes countless moves to win, yes?

Uchiha Madara won the game in four moves.

* * *

For a moment, they are all silent. The gentle pounding of the rain is the only noise that breaks the silence. Those words cut straight to Sakumo's heart. He pictures Yahiko standing at the window of the small cabin, and wonders how long this man has been watching them.

"I have a dream," the man in the mask repeats softly, as if to himself. Then Konan leaps to her feet, anger tainting her beautiful young face.

"Where did you hear that?!" She demands. Before Sakumo can stop her, she has raced around the bed and attempted to hit the man. He catches her thin hand easily, and Sakumo stands up as well, watching warily in case the man should try to hurt the hysterical girl.

The masked man holds onto her wrist tightly, but not hard enough to hurt her. The blue-haired girl collapses in tears and he lets go carelessly, allowing her to fall to the ground at his feet.

He ignores her question, and continues talking after a brief moment of contemplation. "Dreams," he muses to himself, "should only be dreamed and believed in if the dreamer is strong enough to turn fantasy into reality."

He looks down suddenly, as if only just hearing Konan's sobs. He leans down and pulls her to her feet. "Yahiko wasn't strong enough," he tells her quietly over the sound of her broken sobs. "You, Nagato and Sakumo weren't strong enough to support his vision. But," here he leans in until she is face to face with the orange mask, and goes on telling his poisonous lies. "I can make you stronger. And I can save Nagato from the same fate that befell Yahiko."

Sakumo has had enough. He makes his way around the bed and pulls Konan away. She falls limply onto the end of Nagato's bed, watching worriedly as the two men stare each other down.

When Sakumo speaks, his voice is a harsh growl that is strangely similar to the masked man's usual tones. "Who are you?"

"Uchiha Madara," the other answers in an unreadable tone, reclining in the hard wooden chair.

Sakumo snorts at the obvious lie. "Alright then, _Uchiha Madara_, what are you here for?"

One hand tugs contemplatively at his long mane of hair as Madara ponders Sakumo's question. Suddenly, he stands and pushes dismissively past Sakumo as if the White Fang is barely there. He stands over the unconscious boy on the bed like the shadow of a monster from a child's twisted nightmare.

"There are several possible answers to that question," Madara states evenly. "First answer," he runs one hand absently over a metal pole that protrudes from Nagato's back, and both Sakumo and Konan flinch. Madara pretends not to notice, or maybe he really doesn't. "The boy. The Sage of Six Path's legacy." He turns away suddenly and looks straight at Konan. "Second answer; the girl." Turning away from the crying teenager, he faces Sakumo. "Third answer; the White Fang." He makes his way away from the broken trio and sits back down in his chair as comfortably as if it is a throne. "And fourth answer; God."

"God," Konan scoffs suddenly, "There is no God watching over this land. If there had been a god, Yahiko would be alive."

"I agree, Konan," Madara replies smoothly. "There is no God yet." His mask turns to look at Nagato's immobile form. "But when I am through with that boy, _he _will be God."

A bitter laugh forces it's way from Sakumo's throat and hangs scathingly in the air between them. "Sorry, but that's not going to happen."

"Oh?" Madara turns to Sakumo. "And who's going to stop it from happening?"

"I am."

Madara gets to his feet with a world-weary sigh. He makes his way slowly to the door, and stops suddenly. "There are several reasons why you will not. First, if I don't intervene, he will be dead by tomorrow night. Secondly, a confrontation between us will not end in your favor." He turns around suddenly, and a single Sharingan eye glints from the eyehole of his mask. "Thirdly, the boy has nothing to live for anyway. I should have thought that you of all people would understand what it means to live without purpose. And fourthly, if you try to stop me…" he seems to swell with the weight of the secret that he is about to impart. "I'll kill your son."

And then he is gone and Sakumo is left with only one possible choice of action.

* * *

The sun has scarcely started to rise when Madara returns.

Konan is still asleep on the end of Nagato's bed, as the Uchiha founder pushes his way through the flimsy door.

"Well, Hatake Sakumo," Madara says with his smirk visible even beneath his mask. "Have you decided to cooperate?"

"I don't have any choice." Sakumo answers in a voice made of ice. "What do you want to do with Nagato?"

"It cannot take place here," Madara replies easily. "We'll have to move him to a location that I've already prepared."

"So sure that I would cooperate, Madara?" Sakumo spits bitterly.

"I'm an old hand at manipulating Konoha shinobi," Madara returns mockingly, "They always break when their families are threatened."

Snarling under his breath, Sakumo shakes Konan awake and grabs their gear. Madara is already at the door, holding Nagato in his arms.

Without a word, Sakumo holds out his arms to take the teenager. Thankfully, Madara releases him without a fight.

They leap through the trees to some destination that Madara has planned out for them. Sakumo hopes that it isn't far. Nagato is too weak to travel a long journey.

Thankfully, they arrive within minutes.

It's a small building on a practically empty road. The gray buildings around sink down into the muddy ground with mournful demeanors. The building was perhaps once in use as a factory, or a store, but has long since been deserted.

Madara leads the way into the building. It smells of dust and rot, and worst of all, blood. Konan looks up in fright at the powerful stench, but Madara waves one hand reassuringly at her before lighting a few candles. The reason for the smell becomes clear instantly as the room is faintly lit. Six bodies lie on the ground in a heap, as if thrown carelessly by some angry child. They are tangled together and indistinguishable, but when Sakumo moves to remove them, Madara stops him with a single glance.

The floor is covered in seals. They spread outward, creeping along the floor from a circle in the middle. A circle that is just large enough to contain Nagato's limp body. Madara nods wordlessly at the circle as he passes Sakumo and the message is clear. With a growing sense of foreboding, the man gently lays the boy onto the floor in the centre of the bloody seals.

Konan sits on the outside of the seals. No one speaks. This is not the time for words. They are creating history. They are creating God.

Madara sets up the six bodies, each at different intervals on the floor, and draws more seals around them. These he draws in ink, and Sakumo is grateful. He does not want Madara's filthy blood to be used to save Nagato.

Then Madara moves the final body into position and Konan claps her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Sakumo turns to the Uchiha in shock and anger, but Madara ignores their pain. And Yahiko's corpse lies slumped on the ground, the front of his shirt dyed crimson with blood. Strange black pieces of metal pierce his young face and make him seem an eternity older.

Madara is the first to break the silence. He stands over Nagato and his hands move into a seal. "Ready?"

They both nod, although they aren't. No one could ever be ready for what happens next.

The Uchiha founder's hands flash through seals so quickly that Sakumo doubts that even a Sharingan user could read his seals.

Suddenly, Nagato's back bends into a painful arc and he screams. Sakumo has to throw his arms around Konan to hold her back, and both of their heads are bursting with the pain of watching this.

"Madara!" Sakumo calls after a moment, an eternity of watching the boy before them writhe in pain on the ground. Konan has gone limp in his arms and he holds her to his muscular chest as if she is a lifeline that he cannot afford to let go.

"Almost over," Madara answers, and with a pang of fury, Sakumo recognizes the faint amusement in his voice.

He is right. A second later, the boy has fallen lifelessly to the ground. Madara turns to the pair with a casual demeanor that makes Sakumo want to drive his tanto into the man's black heart.

"You can let her go now, Hatake," he says heartlessly. "It's over."

Sakumo slowly releases her from his iron grasp. Konan seems stunned into silence, however, and merely takes a slow step towards her fallen friend. "Nagato?" she breathes into the heavy silence.

Seconds later, he stirs. But he is not alone. Konan leaps back in shock as Yahiko rolls over on the ground. But it is not the Yahiko that they knew and loved. He turns his head to look at them with unaccustomed nervousness. His eyes, when he lifts his head, are not Yahiko's eyes. Sakumo finds himself staring into Nagato's Rinnegan eyes, set deep within the face of Yahiko.

"Konan?" he whispers, and his uncertain voice wavers in the darkness of the dimly lit room.

She moves to him as if in a dream, thin arms wrapping around him in an attempt to hold them both together. The other bodies have started to stir as well, and now seven pairs of Rinnegan eyes stare around the room. The boy in the middle moves limply, rolling slowly to his feet. The black poles stick from his back and he trembles on his emaciated legs.

Again, Madara breaks the silence. "How do you feel?" he asks, now leaning casually against a grimy wall.

One of the seven people being addressed looks over at him. It is a teenager with a strange face that seems to flow onto his shoulders without any neck. He too is studded with the same piercings that seem to be present all over the rest of the bodies. The boy is a total stranger to them all. But when he answers Madara's question, he speaks in Nagato's voice. "Strange," he answers, eyes darting around the small room. "I can see in seven different directions at the same time."

"Useful in a fight," Madara replies casually. "What do you remember?"

"Nothing since the fight with Hanzo," Nagato replies through the strange boy's mouth, "Except for darkness. It was swallowing me up for a little while. I thought I was dead," he says contemplatively, and Konan's arms tighten around Yahiko. "Then the pain came and I realized that I was still alive."

"Pain," Madara muses. He seems to make a decision after a moment, and continues talking. "Through the world's pain you were created, and so now you shall take this agony's form. And name." He adds the last part as if it only just occurred to him.

"Pain," Nagato murmurs, and all of sudden, he is gone. The lonely, worried teenager disappears in flash and in his place stands a broken, powerful man. But no longer a man. Now he is something more than mortal, something infinitely older and wiser than the boy he used to be.

"Pain," he repeats, and Sakumo realizes that this is the end of an era. Uchiha Madara nods, and from somewhere beneath the faceless mask, he is smiling.

Madara turns to lead the way from the small building, and Pain follows. First goes Yahiko's old body, one hand supporting Nagato's frail form carefully, but with a firmness that shows his true strength. Konan and Sakumo fall into step behind the line of pierced men leaving the old factory.

They follow God out of the suffocating room and into the sky's tears that no longer hold any meaning for them.

* * *

And yes, the end was coming. Not the end of our story, however. I'm sorry to say that that comes much later. I still have to tell you about Team Seven, Akatsuki, the siege, Uchiha Itachi's sacrifice, Akasuna no Sasori's revenge, the final fight, and the White Fang's last, desperate attempt to make it all up to us. I still have to tell you about the end that is coming as quickly as the rain that mourns the death of my brother Yahiko. The end of Hanzo. The end of an era of pain and death and the beginning of another, similar era.

Nagato once said that he never intended for our story to end like this. He didn't. But it was his own dreams that lead us to this moment. His intentions were honorable once, until Madara twisted them into his own warped fantasies. A wise man once said that a visionary is always thought mad until his vision becomes a reality. He was wrong. A visionary is only mad if he attempts to turn his vision into reality on his own.

Nagato should have known that he couldn't have done it alone. He didn't realize that whenever he pushed me away, he was only hurting me more then he was protecting me.

Sakumo should have realized that he wasn't the only one who cared about us. Hiruzen did, and Jiraiya, and Minato. Maybe if Sakumo hadn't been trying so hard to protect us on his own he would have actually succeeded.

Kakashi should have realized that the more you bottle up your grief, the more it would hurt when it finally overflows. Maybe if he'd left the past behind, he wouldn't have hated it quite so much when it finally came back to confront him.

And me? What were my mistakes? I ask them sometimes what my biggest mistake was. The answer is always the same. Nagato says that it was loving him. Kakashi replies that it was trying to hold us together without realizing that I was falling apart as well. Sakumo never knows, and his answer is always the most painful to hear.

But I can't talk anymore. Kakashi is calling for me to hurry. I tell him the same answer that I've replied to the past several summons. I say that I'll be out in a minute and I love them. He gives me that same surprised look every time and ducks back out the door.

But wait, Nagato is reading over my shoulder. He's just made a very sudden remark.

"Maybe you should tell them why we're telling this story."

So here is my answer. We are telling you this because you deserve the truth. By now, there has been too much pain and bloodshed, and too many untold stories. Too many broken hearts when they learn the truth. I hope with every inch of the twisted heart that is all of I have left that yours will not be one of the broken hearts.

And now I hand the telling of the story to Nagato. Kakashi and I have already told part of our story, and will take over again somewhere later on. But one last note.

I want to dedicate my part of this story to a man who did not deserve the deck that he was dealt. He was a loving man, who only made the wrong decisions. And had he been anyone else, he could have been one of us.

Akasuna no Sasori. This is for you.

* * *

A/N: Hey! Sorry for the utterly depressing ending to the story. I tend to get really emotional when writing about tragic characters, and no, I'm not emo! As mentioned above, Sasori will play an important part in this story. Not just because he's a member of Akatsuki, and I love him, however. Just in case you've forgotten, I'd like to make a point.

POINT THAT NEEDS TO BE MADE: HATAKE SAKUMO KILLED SASORI'S PARENTS DURING THE WAR. REMEMBER? THAT'S WHY CHIYO TRIED TO KICK KAKASHI'S ASS DURING SHIPPUUDEN!! (CUZ SHE THOUGHT HE WAS HIS DAD!)

Anyway, please review!


	5. Sasori

Untitled Chapter 4: Sasori

A/N: Hello people! Just wanted to talk about some things before I start the chapter. In terms of the title: I'm pretty sure that I should just go ahead and name the story. I have narrowed down the suggestions that I got from my amazing reviewers to several that I really really like. Here they are: To Bear The Wound Of Wars from Obsidian Fire, Wisp of Smoke from Blacknayami, and The Bitter Fruits of Honor from RayneXHatake. All of these suggestions are incredibly awesome. However, I'm not going to choose one yet. So you guys have one or two more chapters to throw suggestions at me before I name the story! Get thinking, lol!

Also, about the last chapter. Yes, Obsidian Fire, the last part was narrated by Konan. And who knows why they have to hurry and tell the story… evil grin…

SO! This chapter is going to be all about Akatsuki, but I might add on some Kakashi near the end… if I feel like it… which is really likely…

Chapter 4: Sasori

* * *

They sit in a small room that overlooks Ame. Four strange chairs are placed in a semi-circle, and they all face a window that opens onto a strange balcony. It is a strange building, and even stranger is the fact that Konan knows it to be the building where the ashes of Ame's dead are kept.

Madara sits on the farthest chair to the left. Pain sits alongside him, although the chairs are several meters apart. Konan sits beside Pain and Sakumo occupies the chair opposite Madara.

It seems imaginary, like an act in a play. It is unreal, with the four deadly ninja residing so comfortably in the heart of the lion's den. And even stranger is the fact that two of them are only eighteen years old.

Eighteen now. It has been a whole year, since the fateful day that Yahiko was killed. A year since Pain was born. A year of heartbreak and uncertainty; a year of living in the past, unable to move forwards.

But the uncertainty ends now. Madara had brought them to this building and left them alone on the topmost levels. He had visited frequently, always reassuring them that his plans were soon to be set into motion, only to vanish into the storm again. But there was a new excitement in the air, despite the gravity of the situation.

As always, Madara spoke through the orange mask. It was impossible to tell whom he watched, but as always, the mask was turned towards Pain. "It is time to set our plans into motion." He leans forward, his shadow stretching grotesquely out in the fading light that trickled in from the window, and almost unconsciously they all mirror him in their excitement. "I am going to create an organization. The purpose for this will be explained later on, but I need one of you to lead it in my place."

"Why?" The word slips over Pain's pierced lips.

"For reasons of my own, I wish to remain in the shadows. Only the three of you will know that I am really leading the group. I will pass on orders to you from behind the scenes. There will be nine members at all time minimum." He looks at the three of them contemplatively. "Any of you would be capable of leading."

Konan almost scoffs in distain. It is obvious who he wants to lead this little group of his. Pain remains silent and motionless. He could almost have fallen asleep with his eyes closed, but they all know that his mind is racing. It is his decision that matters the most.

After a brief moment of thought, he looks up slightly, and nods. Just once.

Madara seems pleased. He continues after a moment. "I have chosen several candidates to be considered as potential members. Obviously, the three of you will be members," he states arrogantly, and Konan feels a small rush of anger that he didn't even ask, before he resumes talking. "The final decision is yours," he tells Pain. "Watch them, judge their abilities. Fight them if you want. Don't bring them to your location immediately. After deciding if they are suitable to be members, give out a time and date for everyone present to meet in one spot. If they give any sign of attempting to betray us, kill them."

He stands up and they all follow suit. Madara pulls a small piece of paper from a pocket on the inside of his black cloak and hands it to Pain.

The Uchiha founder makes his way to the window and leaps from the balcony into the pouring rain. He is lost from sight within seconds. Konan turns, and is on time to notice the burning rage in Pain's eyes before his emotions close off completely and he turns away.

* * *

They set off the next day. Just Konan and Pain. Sakumo stays to guard the building should anyone come across the signs of its inhabitants.

Pain chooses to use one of his other bodies for the recruitment in case they run into trouble. He chooses a man with long red hair that hangs limply down his back. He is introduced to Konan as the 'summoner', or the Human Path. They make their way rapidly through the trees that surround Ame and emerge onto the main path within seconds. Konan turns questioningly towards Pain when he pauses slightly.

"The nearest candidate lives in Sunagakure," he tells her after a moment, turning the strange face towards her.

She falls into step alongside him as they begin their journey. After a moment, the blue-haired woman breaks the heavy silence. "Who is it?"

"His name is Sasori," Pain replies after a brief pause. "He's twenty-two years old. A puppeteer."

They continue on in silence for a moment, until Konan speaks again. "Why are we doing this?"

He turns his face towards her again, the question clear in his eyes.

"What happened to our dreams?" She sees his eyes closing again, pushing her away. She keeps talking, pressing him. "What happened to Yahiko's dreams? Where are the ideals that we once strove to protect? I thought you wanted to stop war. Then why are we running Uchiha Madara's errands for him? Why are we giving up-"

"Enough!" She falls silent in shock at his harsh voice. Nagato would never have raised his voice at her. He wouldn't have been able to.

"Enough, Konan," He continues in that same unknown voice. "This is the way that we're going to accomplish those goals. You really think that I've forgotten what Hanzo did to us? I live with the consequences of that fight every day! But I'm going not going to be Madara's pawn. I'm going to use him to achieve my goals, not the other way around!"

For a moment they merely stare at each other, before turning away. It is the first time that they have ever argued.

"I'm sorry," Konan murmurs after a moment.

He nods in response and she knows that it is the only way that he can apologize. He looks at her suddenly, and her head turns in response. "But we can't doubt each other. You can't doubt me if we want to succeed. If you doubt me, I'll fall. I'm like…" he pauses for a moment and laughs bitterly. "I'm like Madara. If no one feared him, he'd fall too."

"Then we should strive towards not being afraid of him," She says in reply.

"That's impossible," he says so quietly that she has to strain to hear him.

"He's human too," she counters.

"No," Pain answers, bitter beyond his eighteen years. "He's a god."

"So are you."

He pauses thoughtfully and stares at the trees that fly by at terrifying speeds. "If I am a god, then Uchiha Madara is the king of the demons." He suddenly makes a thoughtful noise. "Then is Hanzo a god as well?"

"No," Konan shoots back so quickly that he has to answer.

"But he is more powerful than I am," Pain tells her bitterly, and she has little doubt that this status will not be the same for long.

"There's more to being known as a god then power. If that were all it took, then Sakumo would be a god. So would I." She speaks slowly and thoughtfully, aware that he is listening with a surprising intensity. "I think that it takes understanding to truly be a god. It takes empathy. You have to know what the world is going through and be capable of understanding. Pretending isn't enough. After all, gods aren't born, they're made."

After a second he nods and returns his strange gaze to the horizon. The rest of the journey is made in silence.

* * *

It is agonizingly easy to infiltrate Sunagakure. Pain merely casts a powerful genjutsu on the two guards and they see only a middle-aged couple entering the village. Konan scoffs once they are inside the gate.

"Had we been invaders, the village would be under siege right now."

"Without wars, they grow lazy," Pain replies, eyes hidden beneath the straw hat that was a part of the uniforms that Madara had equipped them with. "It is because our village is the battleground that their people have grown careless."

They fall into another silence, but it is becoming far more comfortable.

Pain leads the way to the Kazekage's tower. They sit on one of the benches that rest below the building, and she looks at him expectantly.

"I need you to use your paper jutsu to get into the records," Pain tells her. "Bring me his folder. I'll wait out here."

She nods wordlessly and forms a quick hand seal. With a wary glance down the street, she bursts into paper. Several sheets slide under the door. From there it is a simple matter to find the records. They are locked into a small room beneath the tower, but locked doors mean nothing to her in this form.

Konan reassembles herself once she is safely locked in the room. Turning to the shelves, she groans. There are hundreds of folders, jammed onto countless shelves. She runs to the nearest one and searches for some means of organization.

"It's not organized by letter," she whispers to herself, "Oh god, please don't be organized by I.D. number."

But it is a simple matter to find Sasori's record. The records were organized by age. Remembering that the man was twenty-two, she quickly found his folder and yanked it from the shelf.

Konan burst back into paper and made her way outside, bringing the folder along with her. Pain was still waiting patiently on the bench. He looked up as she landed next to him. With a triumphant smirk, she handed him the folder. He flipped it open immediately.

The picture on the front was outdated. It had to have been outdated. The name was right, and so was the age. But the boy in the picture could not have been a day older than fifteen. He was slight, with skin that was far lighter then one would expect for someone who lives in the desert. Large brown eyes that could have almost have been called beautiful stared mockingly at the photographer as if the boy in the photo was full of contempt for everyone except for himself. Topped with flaming red hair that was even brighter than Pain's, he looked more like a teenage model than a potential candidate for an organization of criminals.

"His address," Pain murmured, glancing down at the page with interest. All of a sudden he froze. Konan looked at her partner questioningly, and he pointed one finger at a spot on the page. She read it aloud.

"Parents: deceased. So?"

"Look who killed them." Konan read further along and stopped in shock. In bold writing, alongside Sasori's parent's names was a scribbled note.

_Murdered by the White Fang of Konoha. _

"That's very interesting," Pain mused, ringed eyes landing on the picture of the boy with the flaming hair. He got to his feet suddenly and started walking down the street, eyes searching the buildings and street numbers. "He lives near the outside of town," he called over his shoulder to Konan, who hurried to catch up.

They made their way through the village without attracting too much attention. Sasori's house was very old and traditional. Twin pillars stood on either side of the wooden door, and the two-story house looked like a haunted mansion straight out of a ghost story. Pain lead the way confidently. The door was open, which only served to make it seem more frightening.

Konan leapt up the wooden stairs and almost bumped into her partner, who had stopped right in the doorway. She opened her mouth questioningly, but he clamped one hand over it and motioned for her to be quiet. He walked in as carefully as if he were walking on eggs, and the reason soon became apparent. An old woman sat in the entranceway, as if standing guard. She had fallen asleep however, and Pain slid past her and up the sweeping flight of stairs without making a sound.

On the second level, Sasori's room was obvious. There were four doors in the small hallway. One was open, and showed an immaculate bathroom that did not appear to be in use. Another was closed. There were elaborate seals covering it from top to bottom and Konan stopped for a moment to admire the carefully created seals. The doorknob was so dusty that it would appear not to have been in use for several centuries. The third door was locked. The fourth room was unlocked, but closed and it clearly belonged to their target.

Pain pushed his way through the door as if he owned the small room. But it was empty. It was frighteningly bare in the furniture department. There were two shelves and a desk. All of the surfaces were in sawdust and wood shavings. On top of that were puppets, weapons, vials of poison and tools. There were about twenty puppets lying around the room, with twice as many scrolls littering the floor. The small wardrobe door was ajar, and was filled with neat rows of black clothing.

The walls were covered in memories. There were thousands of drawings, both paintings and sketches, but oddly enough there was only one photograph. Konan walked slowly around the room, staring at the drawings in awe. They were beautiful, but progressively darker. They started out with images of sunsets, flowers, landscapes, sometimes a person or two. The colors were bright and beautiful, and the images were drawn in a careful hand that seemed reminiscent of childhood. But as one advanced further into the room, they darkened. A butterfly alighting on a child's finger turned to a man staring at a name on a gravestone in a thunderstorm. The beautiful northern lights changed into a black tree, standing twisted and alone on a cliff overlooking a raging sea. The drawing style changed as well, from light strokes and soft colors to a heavy, angry hand and dark colors. The pictures grew darker and more violent, until they came to a gap on the wall. One picture occupied the space. It was a self-portrait of the boy on the profile picture. He sat alone, stranded on a rock in the middle of a stormy sea. Hands reached from the water as if to beseech for help, but only two figures were visible. Dark hair swirled around a woman's face as she tried to claw her way to the surface. Another red-haired man, older, was reaching out to the boy on the rocks from the water. His face was full of anger, and his pale fingers looked like claws that slashed out at the frightened boy. From the rock, the boy looked up at the viewer of the image. Haunted brown eyes stared in open despair and loneliness. His red hair danced around his face in an invisible wind and one hand reached up to his face. His pale fingers tore part of his skin from his cheek, but no blood fell from the wound. Under his skin was a smooth, dark surface, and with shock Konan realized that it was wood.

They both stared, captivated by the loneliness and pain of the haunted boy on the rocks. Pain turned suddenly as the door creaked open.

In the doorway stood the boy from the picture. He was identical to his picture on his profile, and he looked frighteningly young. The blood that stained his jounin uniform emphasized his young appearance and his chocolate eyes stared at the two strangers with a cold distain that was much too old for his young face. He took a step forwards into the room and Pain stepped forwards to meet him.

"Who are you?" he asked in an icy voice.

"Our names would mean nothing to you, Sasori-san" Pain replies, every inch the Akatsuki leader. "But we are here to make you an offer. I want you to join the organization that I am forming."

"What organization?"

"It is to be called 'Akatsuki'. It is an organization of missing-nin, united by a common goal."

Sasori let out a bitter laugh. "You ask me to abandon my village? There are ties that bind me here."

"These ties weaken you."

"Really." His voice is skeptical.

"You are arrogant, Sasori-san," Pain says, rinnegan eyes boring into the older man's empty face. "Your talent is wasted here. Do you intend to live out your life in this worthless village? You are strong, perhaps the strongest in the village. You are certainly more powerful than the Third Kazekage," he adds and the man's brown eyes narrow slightly. "They don't want you to grow powerful here. They are afraid of what they don't understand, and you are unfathomable to them. They hold you back, and in a war you will be the first sent onto the battlefield. They'll smile when you come back and pretend to celebrate that you're still alive, but it won't really matter." He looks the man straight in the eyes. "It doesn't matter to them if their ninja don't come back. It doesn't matter if they have children, does it? They didn't care when your parents didn't come back, did they? She doesn't care," he points out heartlessly, tilting his head towards the door to indicate the old woman downstairs.

Sasori speaks his first word in a long time. "And you will care if we don't come home?"

"I am the leader of the organization," Pain tells him. "What makes me the leader is the fact that out of everyone there, I alone care about my subordinates."

"What does joining this organization entitle?"

"There will be a time when I tell you. But this is not it. You need not give me your answer now. We will return tomorrow."

He turns to leave and Konan follows him wordlessly with one last look at the painting of Sasori on the rocks. A voice suddenly cuts through the still air.

"How do you know that I won't betray you?" Sasori has gained control of his rampant thoughts and is standing defiantly in front of the window.

"You won't." Pain speaks with such conviction that Konan believes him immediately. No more words are necessary and they leave.

In the lonely house on the edge of Sunagakure, Akasuna no Sasori takes down the picture from the wall. It is the one of himself on the rocks. Pulling a stick of charcoal from a drawer in his desk, he begins to sketch over the drawing. He draws two figures that lean down from the sky, hands outstretched. They wear the black cloaks that the two mysterious visitors wore.

With only a slight second of hesitation, he draws his own arms reaching up to take their hands.

* * *

The same two were currently walking down the streets of Sunagakure in an attempt to find a place to stay the night. Konan talks as Pain stares contemplatively at the stars overhead.

"I don't trust him. He's insane."

"He won't betray us," Pain is still watching the stars. It is rare to see them in Ame. "Besides, he's already given us his answer."

* * *

A/N: Sorry! Almost no Sakumo in this one. I didn't really want to have him there when they meet Sasori because I figure that Sasori would recognize him pretty quickly. I love writing Sasori!!! Especially the part with the drawing. Okay, it's not professional to rant on about your own writing! So, I'll try to update soon! Sorry about the lack of Kakashi at the end. I don't have the energy.

Please review!


	6. Akatsuki

Untitled Chapter 5: Akatsuki

A/N: Hi! I've been pretty busy lately and I couldn't get around to writing. Thank you to all of my amazing reviewers. I really appreciate the input, and I actually wrote it all down and have it sitting beside me right now. I got a PM from Blacknayami with another great name suggestion: Candle in the Wind. I think that by chapter seven the story will definitely have a name. So, this chapter is all about Akatsuki, and Sakumo will have a bigger role.

This chapter is dedicated to Madara because I've had a crazy obsession with him recently.

* * *

Pain and Konan have been gone for several days now, and Sakumo is bored out of his mind. There has been no sign of Hanzo's men, and Madara has disappeared. The tower is nearly as silent as the grave. The only noise that breaks the heavy silence is the thrumming of rain outside.

Sakumo sinks into a chair, and watches the sky impatiently. For a moment, he longs for the clear blue skies of Konoha as he watches the rain drip down to the ground from the clouds like a running painting. He turns aimlessly and is surprised to see a book on a small table. The company seems to be away too much to bother with mundane amusements such as reading. He crosses to it and lifts the book. It is the newest copy of the bingo book and he flips through it absently. And freezes in surprise.

There is a picture on page thirteen that stops him dead in his tracks. Hatake Kakashi, Sharingan no Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, ANBU Hound, jounin. Titles and information runs down the page like a black waterfall as he stares at the picture of the son that he has not seen in ten years. The young man in the picture is a stranger. A jagged scar cuts across Kakashi's right eye, angry and red against his pale skin. The mask that he used to wear only on missions is present on his face, and his light hair sticks up in the same direction as Sakumo's. He wears the standard jounin uniform.

Sakumo reads the page desperately, yearning to know everything about his lost son. The young man continues to stare bitterly out of the photograph as he reads over the information. Sakumo stops suddenly as he sees a statement that surprises him. Student of the Fourth Hokage.

He sits back in his chair slowly. Namikaze Minato, huh? Sakumo had only met the young man once when seeing Kakashi off on a mission, but he had been impressed. He flipped to the indicated page.

Minato's smile seems to fill his whole face. The young Hokage's blue eyes twinkle at the camera and his messy yellow hair makes him look like a schoolchild. But alongside his name is one statement that shocks him more than seeing his son in the book.

_Killed in action._

"Dead…" Sakumo murmurs to himself. "I always thought that he was one of the stronger ones…"

He put the book aside, suddenly feeling very old, despite only being thirty-eight years old. The door abruptly opened, and Sakumo turned to see Pain and Konan in the doorway. They look as immaculate as ever in their new black cloaks, the light of success shines from their eyes. Pain nodded wordlessly to Sakumo and sat down in his chair. Konan's greeting was a little more verbal.

"Sakumo-san," she greets him with a satisfied smile.

"Get anyone?" He asks casually, pulling the bingo book onto his lap to read later.

"Akasuna no Sasori," Pain replies, throwing something to Sakumo who catches it out of reflex.

He unfolds a bundle of paper, and a note falls out. Elegant, slanted writing spells out two words; _I accept._ Sakumo pulls the rest of the paper apart to reveal a beautiful drawing. A red-haired boy sits on a group of rocks in the sea. Two people who resemble the boy are drowning in the water, and Pain and Konan reach down to him from the sky. The boy is reaching up to take their hands. The heavy brushstrokes are dark and foreboding and the boy's face is full of despair, but it looks like he is being rescued, and that alone fills Sakumo with warmth. Maybe this criminal organization is the right thing to do.

"He was sent on a mission, so he left this in his room for us to find," Konan explains, looking at it in admiration. She looks in puzzlement at the book on his lap. "What are you reading?"

In answer, he opens the book to page thirteen and hands it to her. The blue-haired woman takes it and reads the title, before looking up at him in surprise.

"He's my son," Sakumo tells her. "I left him in the village of Konoha when I was exiled."

Pain moves to Konan's side and reads over her shoulder. His face shows no emotion, but Konan smiles gently at the picture. "He looks just like you," she comments. "How old is he?"

"Sixteen," Sakumo answers distantly, and that is that. They decide to leave the next day to recruit the next member on the list.

* * *

"Akasuna no Sasori, Orochimaru of the Sannin, Kakuzu of Takigakure, Hoshigake Kisame of the Seven Swordsmen, and a cannibalistic kekkai genkai user named Zetsu. This is gonna be one hell of a party," Sakumo announces, raising his glass of sake in a mock toast.

The sun is just rising from somewhere behind the ever-present wall of clouds. The trio has just returned from recruiting the final member. Although there were only eight members so far, Madara has assured them that this was enough for the moment. He has also assured them that another member is being groomed for Akatsuki, although the young man's identity was not yet told to them. The entire group would be meeting in a week's time at the gates to Amegakure.

Pain and Konan follow his lead, seating themselves comfortably on the white chairs. The leading pair of Akatsuki were obviously nervous about the coming meeting. Konan's face is calm and emotionless, but her delicate hands tremble faintly even when she clasps them together in her lap. Pain is more subtle, yet he can't seem to stop his eyes from landing on Sasori's painting which now hung on the wall.

"So how is this going to work?" Konan turns her head to watch Sakumo. "Do you think that Sasori will recognize you?"

Sakumo frowns in contemplation, but Pain speaks first. "I doubt it. He was very young when they were killed and I don't think that he would jeopardize his chance for a membership just to get revenge for the parents that he scarcely remembers."

"But all of this-" Konan gestures at the painting, "was because they died. I think you should wear a mask or something. You definitely won't stand out," Konan assures Sakumo, as if that is his biggest fear. "Hoshigake is half fish. Judging on both his and Zetsu's presence, you'll probably just blend into the background."

"I thought that you wouldn't want me to be there," Sakumo admits his concern. On an afterthought, he glances at Pain. "So is the Uchiha coming?"

"He didn't say, although I doubt it." Pain rests his head against the chair tiredly. "He has mentioned that he wants to stay in the shadows."

Sakumo surveys Pain in silence for a moment. "Get some sleep, Na-Pain," he corrects himself hastily. "You look dead on your feet."

"These bodies don't rest," Pain replies tightly, and Konan and Sakumo both know that he didn't miss the slip-up.

Sakumo shrugs and stands up, draining the last dregs of sake. Both teenagers watch him make his way from the room and it is only after he disappears into an adjoining room that Pain moves to follow Sakumo's advice.

* * *

_Miles away_

Another red-haired man loving puts down his carving knife and surveys his newest puppet with pride. Standing, he flexes his fingers expertly and it leaps to life, walking alongside him as he makes his way to the front of the small cave where he has spent the night.

The man and his puppet both bend down simultaneously to exit the cave. Outside, the dawn is breaking. Shades of pink, purple and orange streak the sky in a way that would have perhaps inspired another to paint it, or write a poem describing it, but such beauties no longer hold any importance for the puppeteer.

As his fingers move gracefully and the Third Kazekage blurs into movement, Akasuna no Sasori looks up at the daybreak and laughs.

* * *

_At the Final Valley_

Uchiha Madara lies down comfortably on the top of one of the two mighty statues that dominate the valley. His full, dark hair spreads out around him in the wind, and the orange mask lies on the rock alongside him. His dark eyes survey the rising sun, which he can see over the top of the opposing statue's head.

"Another day," he muses to the other statue. "How long has it been since last we fought, Hashirama?" He sits up fluidly, like a cat, and stares across at the First Hokage's cold gaze. "You may have won that fight, Senju, but look who's left now. And where are you?" he laughs bitterly, amused by the sight of his one-time friend's angry stare. "Rotting under the earth."

For a moment he is content to lie on the warm rock, and reminisce about the past. But his mood changes abruptly and he glares at Senju Hashirama's stern expression. "And you know what really stings, Senju?" he hisses like a cat. "You were killed in action. _I_ wanted to kill you, Hashirama! _Me_, not some other lucky bastard."

The Uchiha founder glares malevolently at his former friend. With the shadows falling strangely over his dark gaze and the harsh lines of his face he resembles an animal. There's something feral about the way that he stands up and faces the other statue proudly. He leaps the gap as if it is a crack in the pavement and lands on top of Hashirama's stone head.

"If I could, I would bring you back," he whispers angrily. "If only just to kill you again. Couldn't picture me doing that, could you? You never saw the resentment that I felt for you. You could never look past the fact that I cared about Izuna. All you saw was the caring brother. You only saw the best in me. Well, look at me from wherever the hell you ended up. This is who I am. Welcome to reality, _brother_."

* * *

_The first time that they fight is the first time that Madara ever really respects an opponent._

_Senju stands tall in the middle of a clearing and he looks like a god. His long hair whips around his sculpted face and his dark eyes stare unblinkingly at Madara. Senju is clad in a suit of filthy armor overtop of plain black clothes. He watches the Uchiha with a calm demeanor that bothers Madara. He didn't quite expect the Senju to fear him, but Madara is arrogant, and he hoped for a bit more of a reaction. Had Madara been a lesser person, he might have been intimidated by the presence of the Senju clan leader, but he is Uchiha Madara and he backs down from no one. _

_The first time that they fight is the first time that Hashirama ever feels uncertain about the outcome of a fight._

_Madara steps from the shadow of the trees with a grace that befits the master of the king of the demons. Crimson armor covers his agile form and his lack of height does little to reduce the unfamiliar feeling of insecurity that rises in Hashirama's chest. His thick, wild hair falls down his back like a waterfall of shadows. The famed Mangekyo Sharingan spins in his eyes, and remembering the old legends, Hashirama breaks eye contact. Old women of his clan used to tell stories about shinobi who looked into the Uchihas' eyes and were imprisoned there forever, living in a world of red and black that was controlled by the wielder of the eyes. Hashirama's hands come up into the seals for Mokuton, and his face creases with determination. This was more than the Senju against the Uchiha. This was light against dark, white against black. And Senju Hashirama did not intend to lose to his greatest rival. _

* * *

_Standing over the coffin that holds his brother's corpse, so cold, so damn cold, Madara's heart breaks. He stares vacantly at the white cloth that covers Izuna's empty eye sockets. Again, he glances down at the paper that he crushes in one trembling hand. _

_The Senju have proposed an alliance. _

_The Uchiha are tired of fighting. _

"_Damn you, Hashirama," Madara snarls as he leans down to clasp his brothers hand one last time. _

* * *

_Madara sits on the rooftop, staring at the cliff that overlooks the village. The general outlines of a face have been carved into it, although whose face is being decided at this moment. He watches the workers scurrying about on the rock wall, bodies horizontal to the ground. The door to the rooftop opens suddenly, and light floods the darkness of the night. _

_Senju steps out from the doorway and in his face are a million regrets and an eternity of sadness. Madara averts Izuna's eyes from Hashirama's as the Senju leader comes to sit alongside him. _

"_No need to say anything," Madara states bitterly, taking a pull from a flask of alcohol. "Your face says it all."_

_Hashirama tells him anyways. "I won."_

"_You shouldn't have," Madara drawls, and Hashirama accepts the lie with a bowed head. The Senju looks suddenly at his Uchiha counterpart, dark hair swishing around his drawn face. _

"_It doesn't mean anything. The major decisions will still involve you. The Uchiha will not be overpowered by my responsibilities." _

_Madara hurls his flask at the ground and feels a small shred of satisfaction when it shatters. He tries to imagine it being Hashirama's head. "Tell that lie to someone who believes it, Senju."_

"_And I will repeat that 'lie' until you realize that it is reality!" Hashirama turns on Madara angrily. "I know what you think, Madara! This is not between our clans, despite your misgivings! The village chose me as their leader, and perhaps it is better that way! At least I have no intention of stabbing you in the back!"_

_Madara leaps to his feet, his hand going immediately to his fan. "You accuse me of planning to overthrow you?"_

"_Perhaps I do! I see the resentment in your eyes, Uchiha Madara, and although this title means a great deal to me, you wanted it even more for reasons that I never fully understood!" Hashirama is on his feet too, although he makes no move to challenge the Uchiha leader. After a moment, his hard expression softens. "Madara, my friend, I do not wish to fight you."_

"_Tell that to my dead brother," Madara retorts heartlessly. "He died so that I could be strong enough to fight you."_

_Without another word the Uchiha turns and leaps from the rooftop like a shadow of death._

* * *

_**The fire has long since burned itself to the ground, although the lonely tree remains. **_

* * *

_Madara tries again to pull himself to his feet, but his burning arm- the other is hanging broken by his side- forces him to remain on the ground. He growls like a tortured animal, dark hair falling over his sweat-streaked face. With a cough the ground beneath him is showered in blood. _

_Hashirama is barely in better shape, but he is on his feet. He moves slowly, determinedly towards his one-time friend, ignoring the burns that cover his body. With every faltering step he takes, his resolve fails but he continues walking. _

_From somewhere far away, Madara feels the sun lose its warmth as the First Hokage's shadow falls over his prone form. He manages to gaze upwards in a final bloody act of defiance. The eternal Mangekyo Sharingan has long since ceased spinning in his eyes. _

"_I'm sorry, Madara," Hashirama coughs through the blood and vomit that curdle in his mouth. "I never wanted it to end like this…"_

_He raises his hand one last time, and a sword of wood bursts from his palm. _

"Thought you'd killed me, didn't you, Hashirama?" Madara murmurs to himself. "Well you were wrong. And I get the final laugh in the end. Now I have the means to take revenge for what you took from me. Pain will be the key. I bet you're looking down at me now, cursing your own helplessness. I used to know that feeling, Hashirama. I felt it when we fought here, over fifty years ago."

Finishing his one-sided conversation with his former enemy, the Uchiha stands up, stretching like a cat. He turns his dark gaze north, to Ame.

* * *

The group that assembles outside the gates of Ame is so outlandish and mismatched that Sakumo hurries them into the tower where Pain and Konan wait for them. For the moment, Sakumo goes under the alias of "Tenzo", a ninja from Cloud. The White Fang has hidden his tell tale silver hair under a dark hood and his features under a black mask. The missing-nin are silent and wary, fully aware of the dangers present.

They enter the room to find a group of chair set out for them, and the leading pair of Akatsuki already seated as casually as if they hosted secret criminal meetings in the heart of the lion's den every day.

First into the room is Orochimaru of the Sannin and he is being watched warily by all present. The Sannin is as cold and predatory as ever, and his pallor only increases his strong resemblance to a vampire. His golden eyes dark around the room, never blinking, and fix unnervingly upon Pain, who stares coldly back. Orochimaru wears black clothes, topped by a white robe and a purple belt. He is among the tallest there, and one of the most well known and feared in the room, although all the candidates are too well trained to show their nervousness. He seats himself on one of the white chairs as if it is a throne, and contents himself with watching the others.

The former Takigakure hunter, Kakuzu is a bit of a mystery. He is covered from head to toe. Only his cruel green eyes are visible and they watch the assembly warily, glinting form the darkness of his mask. When he moves to sit down and the fabric on his arm shifts, his skin is shown to be covered with stitches as if he were recently torn apart and stitched back together.

Hoshigake Kisame is without a doubt one of the most-if not the most- relaxed in the room. The massive swordsman seems completely at home in the dimly lit room, and he casually carries his equally large sword as if it weighs little at all. His blue skin and gills lend him the intimidating appearance of being part shark, a fact that he seems to enjoy.

Zetsu is an enigma to all present, and he is one of the most threatening figures in the room. The plant growth over his head gives him a silhouette in the dark that would be described as terrifying by a lesser man, but to Sakumo merely seems unnatural.

The last member through the door is Akasuna no Sasori. The young puppeteer is without a doubt the youngest member in the room (excluding Pain and Konan) at the age of twenty-two, and looks even younger. He is on the receiving end of several dubious glances, but he holds his head up high. Sasori is wearing the same ensemble that he wore in Sunagakure, and his slashed headband hangs around his neck. His haunted brown eyes survey the room with an ever-present air of scorn. Sakumo looks at the young man for a moment and tries to remember ever having killed his parents. He has killed too many to remember them.

There is a moment of silence as the criminals seat themselves comfortably on the white chairs. Pain watches them all from his seat at the front of the room. His back is to the window and he is reclining comfortably on his chair. The young leader wears a black cloak with red clouds and sports a new ruby red ring on his slim finger. He has chosen to appear in his main body (Yahiko's) and the piercing eyes scan the assembled members with an intensity that makes up for his young age.

Konan sits on Pain's right, wearing an identical cloak and a similar ring. Madara has equipped them with uniforms for all present and even had other rooms prepared for the others should they chose to join. Sakumo looks at Konan and Pain and marvels inwardly at how much older they look, despite being only eighteen. With a burst of pride he knows that they can sit alongside such infamous criminals and do more than fit in; they can _lead_.

Pain breaks the silence after a moment. "You all know why you're here," he starts, Rinnegan eyes flitting over their faces. "But before I tell you any more, I wish to inform all of you that what is said in this room is highly confidential. Should any of you repeat what I say here, I will kill you." He glares around at all of them and they all know that he is not making this threat lightly. "Now, here is what I will tell you for the time being. I want you to become the first members of an organization that I am forming. My name is Pain, and I will be the leader. Formed up of only the strongest shinobi," he nods at them all, "we will create one of the world's greatest military powers. The organization is to be called 'Akatsuki'. Akatsuki's goals will for the moment remain hidden, but what I will tell you is that we intend to gather the tailed beasts to accomplish this goal." There was a slight stirring in the crowd, and Pain pauses again for a moment. He looks over the group again and can tell instantly that they are clinging to his every word. "Akatsuki will operate in pairs. Each member will be assigned to capture one bijuu. In order to be a member you must break all of your ties with your home village, since you might someday be sent back there."

Pain breaks off, eyes fixing on Kisame who evidently wants to say something. The swordsman nods respectfully before speaking. "So, I get what you're saying; go out there, capture the demons, haul them in. But what's the benefit for us?"

Pain leans back in his chair and smirks lightly at the older man. "I'll leave you to figure that one out for yourself, Kisame-san. Ask Sasori-san if you're unsure."

All eyes turn to the red head, although he says nothing and continues to stares resolutely at Pain. The Rinnegan wielder turns back to the others on whole, but his smirk remains. "Are there anymore questions?" he asks them as if they're schoolchildren. "Or can I continue?"

"Who would our partners be?" The soft silky voice belongs to Orochimaru, who has scarcely taken his eyes off of Pain throughout the meeting. The way that he stares at Pain's eyes unnerves Konan and she keeps her eye on him.

"That depends, Orochimaru-san," Pain replies, meeting the legendary ninja's eyes without fear. "I don't know if you're all planning on joining."

"Let us pretend that we all are," Orochimaru persists. "Have you decided the partnerships?"

Pain thinks before replying. "You would be paired with Sasori-san, Orochimaru-san," he tells the older ninja. "Kisame-san with Kakuzu-san, Zetsu-san with Tenzo-san, and myself with Konan-san. Any complaints?"

Orochimaru's eyes fix contemplatively on Sasori and he watches the younger man for a long moment, before sitting back in his chair and nodding in approval. Sakumo doesn't miss the disgusted curl of Sasori's lip, but the man says nothing.

"All right," Pain continues after checking that there are none. "The next order of business. Do you plan on joining?" He looks at them expectantly.

Kakuzu speaks for the first time in a harsh voice that reminds Sakumo of an earthquake. "I can't speak for the rest of you, but it's better than roaming the world alone. I'm in."

Kisame nods, sharp teeth glinting in the faint light.

Zetsu inclines his head in acceptance.

Orochimaru bows his head slightly, "It would be an honor."

Sasori steeples his delicate fingers and rest his head against them. "You know my answer."

Sakumo nods wordlessly.

Pain looks up at all of them and lets his lips curl upwards slightly. "Excellent."

* * *

A/N: Whoa! That's my longest chapter yet, with 4300 or so words! I do have an excuse for not updating recently, but it's not a very good one. I have gotten so obsessed with Madara (as you can probably tell from the part about him earlier) and I've spent a lot of time reading about him. I actually wrote a whole bunch about him and then I'm like, Oh crap, this was supposed to be about the formation of Akatsuki and deleted it. I regret it now... Anyway, I know that Sakumo doesn't seem to have a very big part yet, but he'll take over once I get past the whole forming Akatsuki part. It'll probably continue on into the next chapter. Anyway, if any of you guys know any good Madara stories, tell me please!

So same as usual! Please review! Title suggestions own, and thanks to all of my readers.


	7. Birth and death of a dream

**Untitled Chapter 6: Birth and death of a dream**

Hey everyone! I'm sorry for the wait! I went away over Christmas and I didn't have access to a computer. Anyway, in one of the last reviews that I got, RayneXHatake asked a very good question. Why didn't Kakashi go with Sakumo? Well, I actually do have an answer for this! Let us all think back to the days of Kakashi Gaiden! You remember that Kakashi was a very bitter, stuck-up kid? Well, that's mostly because of what his father did on the mission and how he died, right? See where I'm going with this? What happened in my story was that Kakashi was told that his father was going to be exiled. This was after he'd been hearing for months about what a traitor Sakumo was, and the two were not on very good terms. Kakashi, being the perfect little soldier, was ashamed to be related to his father. He chose (yes, he had a choice), to stay in Konoha and he became the jaded little boy that we all know and love! Yes, I believe that Kakashi loved his father but it's more realistic to me, taking in account of Kakashi's character, that he would chose to stay in the village.

In the last chapter I said that there would be more about Akatsuki in this chapter. I am a liar! I'm sorry! There are some members of Akatsuki… This chapter is going to start with a time skip. We're going forward two years. Pain and Konan are twenty, Sakumo is forty.

This chapter is dedicated to Lostoverlord because I love their profile picture!!!!

* * *

The valley is full to the brim with soldiers, all lined up eagerly in perfect formation. The wet grass is hidden beneath armor and weapons, covering the world as far as the eye can see. It is not a strange sight to see rebels amassing on the outside of Ame, for attacks upon the city had become more and more frequent over the years. But to have so many in one place at the same time is rare, but today it is not at all unexpected.

Today every single rebel marches out to Ame for the last time ever.

Now they are all lined up in the valley to receive their orders from the rebel leader, Lord Pain himself. For years he has been known only to them as a shadowy figure whose orders are passed down to his troops from their commanders, or on rare occasions, the blue-haired woman who they have come to know as the messenger from God. The excitement is catching and the shinobi fidget nervously, checking their equipment, scanning the hills for any approaching figure.

Sakumo stands on a raised podium with six others. The men know him as a close associate, perhaps even a friend of Lord Pain, and many regard him with as much awe as they bestow upon Konan. The silver-haired man is wearing the black and red cloak of Akatsuki and his ponytail swings damply down his back. The silver of his hair adds no age to his still handsome features, and his headband is tied around his neck, out of view to those who might wonder why he is from Konoha.

Turning his head to the side slightly, his eyes meet Konan's and she smirks at him excitedly. He watches her even after she turns her eyes back to the crowd. Her long blue hair is tied into a neat bun on top of her head, and held in place with a white origami flower. She seems so much older and more confident now, fully at home in her place at the head of an army of rebels.

The others around the podium are commanders of Pain's army and unimportant in the general scheme of things.

There is a sudden flash of smoke at the front of the podium and all sound stops. The valley grows so quiet that every breath, every slight movement from the crowd sounds like a thunderclap. A black-robed figure appears at the front of the crowd and the world holds its breath.

He turns to look at them equally silently. The handsome, young face of the mystery known as Lord Pain surveys his soldiers calmly. Black studs run down his aquiline nose and studded his ears. A slashed Ame headband holds back his bright hair and his strange eyes watch the crowd for a long moment. On an invisible signal, the crowd suddenly begins to cheer so hard that the ground seems to shake.

They clap and scream his name for what feels like an eternity. Sakumo wants to join in, caught up in the emotions of the crowd, but he holds his rigid position and watches Pain.

After a moment, the lone man at the front raises his hand for silence and the noise dies away instantly. He speaks after a moment and although he does not raise his voice, it carries over the crowd as easily as if he is shouting through the wind and howling rain.

"I am Pain."

The cheering and screams start up again. Pain stands at the front with his head held high, eyes scanning the crowd intensely. The noise is so loud that Sakumo wonders if Hanzo can hear it in Ame, and smirks at the thought. The young rebel leader raises his hand again for silence.

"Comrades," he starts, and his voice echoes impressively in the now-silent valley. "We observe today not the replacement of one reign of terror with another, but the liberation of a war-torn country."

They scream again, but grow quietly quickly, clinging to his every word. Their hearts beat to the rhythm of his words and his eyes fix upon different soldiers for a second. Every man amongst them feels like he is talking directly to them.

"This is both an end and a beginning.

"Great changes are coming to this world as swiftly as the rain that pours from the heavens. But the same revolutionary beliefs that have bound us since the beginning of time have changed little over the centuries. We resolve our conflicts in the wrong way, because we have no choice. Violence is the only language that Hanzo understands, and so violence is what we shall use to achieve our ends. But understand this, we use this pain only to end this war, to free these people, never to take Hanzo's place."

He pauses and looks over them again, but now they stay silent, eyes watching their leader-their god- with absolute devotion.

"Let us not forget that the men we cut down today are human too. They are bound by their beliefs, as we are by ours, and we have not right to declare them wrong. We cannot declare them wrong, but we all know in our hearts that we are right.

"Let the world know, whether it be friend or foe, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, and meet any hardship in order to restore liberty."

The screaming starts again.

"In order to defend the weak."

They yell louder.

"To regain hope for those who have lost sight of it."

They raise their weapons over their heads, screaming themselves hoarse.

"To stop these meaningless deaths."

The sound is deafening.

"To end this pain."

Sakumo gazes with pride at Pain as the chanting of the crowd fills his ears.

"Lord Pain! Lord Pain! Lord Pain!"

The man in question holds up a hand for silence.

"A brave man once saved my life. I repeat to you now what he told me, the words that convinced me to take action against what I then believed to be an invincible foe. What I know see as just another human. These are his words.

"I have a dream. I envision a world without war, without suffering, orphans or pain. And I believe that we have the means to make my vision a reality. We have power. We have motives. We have the most important quality of all; we have empathy. We know what it means to hurt, to fall asleep curled behind trashcans afraid that the next day may be our last. We understand the pain of watching our loved ones cut down before out eyes, and being unable to save them because we aren't strong enough. Now that we're strong enough, we can't just sit by and watch others go through our pain. One day my life will flash before my eyes. I want it to be worth watching. This is what we were brought into this world to do."

There are more than several teary eyes at this point in the crowd although they remain quiet.

"The man who said those words had always envisioned himself leading the troops up the path to free Ame. As he lay dying at Hanzo's feet, several months after saying those words, with his last breath he threw the torch."

Pain raises one hand, grasping at the air. "I caught it."

They take up the chant again, and this time Pain merely carries on over them. Somehow he still manages to make himself heard.

"And now here we all stand. You who have sacrificed so much for our cause will be rewarded at long last. But never forget that those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger will end up inside."

His eyes flash steely anger at the mention of the enemy.

"In your hands, my fellow shinobi, more than in mine, rest the final success or failure of our cause. And I am honored beyond words to fight alongside you today.

"The world will little note nor long recall what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It cannot forget Hanzo's cruelties." Pain spits the name out like poison. "It cannot forget about the children who starve in the streets. It cannot forget the spilt blood of the brave shinobi who will die today. It cannot forget the birth, as well as the death of the dreams that were abandoned by those no longer strong enough to dream them. We have nothing to offer but blood, sweat and tears. We have nothing to lose but our lives. This war must be fought to its conclusion.

"The clouds are lifting, my friends." All of a sudden he lifts both of his hands and stares upwards. Every shinobi in the crowd holds their breath, wondering what he is doing. And it is with utter shock that they realize that the rain is slowing. Time stands still as the clouds part, the rain stops, and Pain lowers his hands and turns back to his incredulous followers. They are frozen in shock and disbelief and he takes advantage of their silence to continue his speech.

"Dwell not on the darkness and despair that has pressed down on us for so long. Turn your eyes to the clear skies ahead. But never forget what we have lost to come this far." He finishes in a quieter voice, remembering his own losses, and nods his head in acknowledgement to his army.

Pain glances back at Sakumo and Konan before continuing. Konan nods, smiling through her tears, remembering the time in the little cabin where they watched Yahiko tell Sakumo about his dream. Seeing Pain at the head of this mighty army is more than haunting, especially as he chose to end this conflict in Yahiko's body.

Pain turns back to the crowd. "You all know your assigned duties," he says in the commanding voice that he uses in the role of leader of Akatsuki. "Hanzo has tainted the air with his breaths long enough. The past shall be avenged. This time, _he_ will die at _my_ feet."

The crowd surges forwards like water breaking free of a dam. The commanders take up their appointed places at the head of the army and the three rebel leaders are quickly alone in the trampled valley. Pain remains at the front of the platform, paying little attention when his friends draw level with him.

For a moment, they all gaze down the path to Ame, watching the rapidly disappearing army. Pain turns suddenly to Sakumo and Konan.

"We'd best get going," he remarks in a tense voice. "I have an appointment with Hanzo that I'd hate to miss."

* * *

Konan spins in mid-air as a kunai shoots past her, alerting her to her attacker's position. With a quick seal, her paper wings explode into millions of sharp blades, and a scream from below tells her that the man in question is no longer a threat. She lands quickly on a nearby rooftop and gazes over the burning buildings to Hanzo's stronghold. There is no sign of a battle and she has a second to wonder what is taking him so long before a powerful spray of water knocks her from her perch.

She turns quickly, but the guard is already lunging forwards with his katana ready. In a desperate attempt to dodge, she jumps backwards and trips on a piece of stone. The guard lunges forward, aiming for her heart…

And with a flash of white he is cleaved in two. Sakumo pulls his blade free from the man's body and hauls Konan to her feet, pulling her away from the guards, who are now being massacred by rebels.

"Madara's here!" he yells over the din as they run down the bloody streets in search of more foes.

"Why?" She screams back, wondering what on earth _he_ wants now.

"I only saw him for a moment! He said he wanted to see Pain fight Hanzo!"

"Well he'll be disappointed. They haven't started yet."

Sakumo pulls her into an alley, and they jump out as more of Hanzo's guards race past them.

* * *

The tyrant himself stands at the window of his most secure stronghold. Armed shinobi patrol the room and the halls outside of it, all sporting the rebreather of his personal guard. Suddenly a massive tremor shakes the room, and the building starts to collapse. The captain of the guard turns to his leader urgently.

"Sir, we have to go! The rebels are coming!"

"Let them come," Hanzo replies arrogantly, keeping his balance expertly on the shuddering floor. "I daresay I might even be honored with a visit from 'Lord Pain' himself."

"Sir this location is not secure. We have to leave." The man stands helplessly at the door, unable to convince his commander to come to safety.

Hanzo turns and fixes his piercing black eyes on the hapless captain. "Leave me, captain. I have little need of cowards unwilling to face a band of pitiful rebels. I shall finish these terrorists on my own."

The unfortunate captain waves for his men to leave, and with one last glance, he leaves Salamander Hanzo for the last time.

After his guards have left, Hanzo takes a seat at the window, gazing out at the burning city. With no rain to quell the fires, most of the buildings are now on fire and the streets are full of chaos. The man places his massive metal rebreather over his mouth and with an expression of distaste he stares at the calm blue sky that hardly matches the pandemonium in the city. Black eyes narrow thoughtfully. It would take a skilled ninja to vanquish the storm. But Hanzo has defeated thousands of skilled ninja over the years, and this Pain is little more than a petty upstart, hiding behind a reputation too powerful for such a pathetic bandit. At least, this is what Hanzo tells himself. And had he not been so wise, he might almost have believed it.

With a sudden crash, the door is blown from its hinges. The tremor shakes the battered building, and Hanzo stands up. A dark form moves slowly through the dust and a man steps out from the doorway. He is young, he wears a black and red cloak, and he is shockingly familiar.

"Pain." It is not a question, but a statement, and Hanzo's eyes narrow angrily as his strange visitor merely inclines his head, unnerving eyes following Hanzo's every move. "Bold of you to face me on your own, boy, but I cannot be defeated here. Nevertheless, I now cannot allow you to walk free from this place."

"I had no intention of running." The rebel's voice is deep and cold. It could perhaps be described as rich should the right mood find him, but now it echoes none of the determination that Hanzo would expect to find in it. His words are simply_ there_, just like the man himself.

Hanzo is curious, despite himself. "And what makes you so certain of your own abilities, boy? I have not earned my reputation for nothing."

"I would know that better than anyone." Is the cryptic reply and Hanzo looks more closely at his enemy.

The young man is frighteningly familiar, his eyes seem to draw Hanzo deep into the past, and yet Hanzo cannot place him. "Have we fought before?"

"Once." At this answer, a shadow comes over Pain's young face.

"I don't seem to recall, but no matter. If you are that unimportant, then I have nothing to fear."

Pain shows no anger at Hanzo's words, and for a moment, Hanzo would do anything to wipe that impassive look off his face. Hanzo wants him to feel fear, agony, terror, pain. Wants him to realize his mistakes, and the impossibility of ever defeating the legend before him. Pain speaks again after a moment.

"We did meet a long time ago, and you considered us important then. After all, you instigated the meeting. But I was a child then. Anyway, I'm not worried. You'll remember me." At those words, a slight smirk comes into his eyes. "After all, I drove you from the battlefield."

Hanzo has just enough time to scoff at the arrogant man's words before Pain is suddenly in motion. With a speed that rivals Hanzo's, the pierced man appears in front of his enemy and draws back his hand as if to thrust an invisible katana into Hanzo's heart.

Hanzo barely sees him on time. His sharp eyes catch the movement of a black blade rushing from the sleeve of Pain's cloak and he leaps backwards, out of the window. The man falls to the ground, but he never lands. Forming seals rapidly, a cloud of smoke covers the area and Hanzo lands lightly on the head of a massive salamander. The beast rears up, nostrils flaring and it's beady eyes fix on the figure of Pain, still standing at the window.

"**Hanzo**," it rumbles in a voice that shakes the very earth. "**Who is this man who believes himself capable of defeating us?"**

"The same man who sealed the storm,"Hanzo replies in an angry voice.** "**And the rebel who has been a thorn in my side for so long."

The massive beast considers this for a long moment, eyes watching the rebel impassively. **"Why do we both fight this man when your people are being slaughtered? Surely you can handle him on your own, while I protect the people."**

"Don't doubt my abilities, Ajisuke," Hanzo snarls. "He is just a boy. But I have little care for the miserable villagers. They can provide for themselves. I summoned you, and you will fight alongside _me_."

He turns back to the man at the window, and suddenly the giant salamander roars with pain. A monstrous dog with multiple heads snarls viciously at the larger summon, its fangs dripping with the Salamander king's blood. Hanzo ignores the gash in his ally's side as he scans the area for the source of the summon.

"He formed no seals."

"**The one at the window didn't. Look, he is no longer alone**."

A second man lands on the ground beneath the window as Pain drops from the building to land in a crouch beside his ally. He too has red hair, but it is tied into a high ponytail. His face is studded with piercings in a different style and he glares through the same ringed eyes as Pain. He wears the black and red cloak that seems to have some important meaning, a meaning which is still unclear to Hanzo.

The dog lunges again for the huge salamander, but this time Ajisuke is ready. His long tail lashes out and connects with a terrible crack in the dog's ribs. It flies through the air, and lies still at the bottom of the building. A clone of Hanzo rises from the ground behind them and the summoner turns, attacking viciously while his counterpart watches the opponents with wary eyes.

"**They share the same eyes**," Ajisuke rumbles. "**The summon, the summoner, and the rebel. What does it mean?"**

"I have not seen them before," Hanzo admits, watching as the summoner takes down the clone with a rough, black sword. A movement catches his eye and he spins, catching the fist of another man just in time. This one has long red hair; the same shade as the other two's, the same eyes, piercings and a long black cloak. Beneath him, Ajisuke's long tail whips again, knocking away the dog, which has somehow multiplied itself into five equally ferocious creatures.

A group of missiles shoot at Hanzo with deadly speed. He ducks, but has little time to recover. Hanzo finds himself attacked by four men, all with the matching piercings, hair, eyes and cloak. They attack in perfect unison with a show of unmatched skill that, despite Hanzo's anger, slightly intimidates him. One of them, a tall man with a strange smile braces his arm with his hand and his other hand suddenly detaches from his arm and shoots at Hanzo in a way that ressembles the missiles, but far more powerful. Although he dodges quickly, another man shoves him back into the hand's path. The man ducks quickly, but the hand still grazes him and nearly knocks him from the summon's head. Pain-_where did he come from?!-_ moves quickly, hands flashing through seals, and a bolt of water shoots from his mouth, dislodging Hanzo from his perch and forcing him to land on the rolling water. Amidst the battle, he catches sight of the summoner forming another seal, and he calls out a warning to the salamander king.

"Ajisuke! He summoned again."

The massive creature tosses its angrily, nostrils flaring. **"Hanzo! I will not be humiliated like this! Let us fight them on our own territory!"**

In an instant Hanzo understands the creature's meaning. He feels a jolt of electricity running from the summon into the water and channels it through himself and into the air around him. The four men leap backwards but it is too late. With a flash of lightning, they are pulled into the electrical storm.

Hanzo and Ajisuke are far from finished. Watching the others die would be satisfying but there is no time while Pain still lives. Together the duo suddenly spit out great mouthfuls of water, and the surrounding area is quickly flooded. Hanzo smirks. In the water, he is invincible. Despite how it began, this battle is over.

Despite the deaths of his allies, Pain remains impassive. Hanzo twists slightly and looks over his shoulder-

-And is forced to throw himself violently out of the way as one of the red-haired men lunges forward with a black sword in his hand. Hanzo feels a stab of pain as the blade grazes his shoulder but ignores it. He moves to finish the man while they are at close quarters but suddenly he is being pulled from Ajisuke's head, and there is no time to think. He finds himself hurtling through the air towards Pain, who now has one hand outstretched and his own black blade drawn. Hanzo reaches for his chakra, only to find it strangely agitated. Dimly, he hears Ajisuke's bellow of rage. With an impressive display of quick thinking he throws a kunai with an explosive note at Pain and the man is forced to dodge. Hanzo, having landed on the water, is already waiting for him. Pain is blinded by the smoke of the explosion and cannot see Hanzo racing towards him.

Hanzo lunges forwards, a blade in one hand, towards the blinded man. Without losing a precious second, he stabs forwards hard, but Pain is twisting away, and this is impossible, because the rebel can't see him! But as the smoke clears he sees that another man is staring straight at him. _So the others could see me, and somehow managed to warn him, without words, hand gestures, anything! _But already Hanzo is forced to defend himself, as the other bodies, who have somehow survived the storm attack together, wielding their deadly black blades. The man whose hand was used as a missile opens the top of his head to reveal a cannon of sorts, which let loose a massive burst of chakra and an explosion shook the water, causing massive waves. A gust of deadly wind shoots at Hanzo suddenly and with a jolt of shock he realizes that Pain and his allies have used more than the usual two elemental affinities, more like three or four! He thinks desperately, brilliant mind racing to find the link that binds them together. They fight with synchronization beyond anything he has ever seen, they share their vision, they move as if reading each other's minds! How is this possible?! He is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely notices when a massive eel attacks Ajisuke from below the water with electricity running through its muscular body.

Hanzo dives into the frigid water, planning on regrouping, but the summoner has summoned again and he is forced to dodge the horrible figure of a massive swordfish with piercings studding its body. The other men-are they perhaps clones?- are upon him then, although Hanzo smirks behind his rebreather as he realizes Pain's error. There is only room to send down one at a time, with the summons crashing about in the water surrounding them. He sends a jolt of electricity running through the water, finishing off the swordfish, although Ajisuke will be able to handle the jolt. The man nearest him jerks in shock as he is electrocuted, _but why are they not dead?_ Hanzo understands in an instant as one man holds out his arms as if to embrace his enemy and the electricity shudders through his small, squat form.

He died to protect the others, Hanzo thinks contemptuously, by pulling the electricity into himself. The tyrant suddenly realizes his mistake as the man moves to attack him again, and suddenly Pain is above him on the water and is pulling him out by some invisible force.

Hanzo surfaces and pulls himself onto the water's surface. Pain and his strange allies face him across the water. Ajisuke moves to tower over his summoner, bleeding from several serious gashes that he ignores studiously, beady eyes narrowing angrily.

"So what now Hanzo?" Pain asks with none of the expected arrogance in his impassive voice. "You have shown yourself to be ill matched against my abilities. Unfortunately for you, I have little intention of leaving you alive."

Hanzo's eyes glare at his opponent. "You will not win this, rebel!" He spits angrily. "I have forces at my disposal that you can never hope to defeat!"

"Good for you, old man," Pain returns mockingly, his first show of emotion throughout the fight. "However, I _am_ a force that you can never hope to defeat."

* * *

Sakumo and Konan skid to a stop a very safe distance away from the deadly battle that raged in the city's centre. The battle for Ame is nearly over, and the majority of Hanzo's guard lies slain. The two have returned to catch the tail end of Pain's fight, and from the looks of it, neither side appears to be winning. Instead the six Paths and their opponents square off on top of a large body of water.

"Pull up a seat," a familiar voice calls mockingly. "It's quite the show."

They turn immediately. Madara is seated on a boulder near the water's edge. With his feet resting on another rock, leaning back comfortably, he is the very picture of relaxation. Only the glint of his sharingan from his eyehole shows that he is watching the fight with avid interest. Sakumo approaches cautiously, never fully aware of the unpredictable man's mood.

"How's it going?" He asked, nodding towards the group on the lake.

"Just as I expected," Madara replies. "Pain's winning, and the old man is furious. He's never been this outclassed before. His rage is making him take risks. I'm willing to bet this will be over in a number of minutes."

* * *

A/N: Yep, sorry guys! That's all for now! The battle will be completed next chapter and I'm not too sure what comes after that. Please review and tell me if you liked the fight with Hanzo. I'm not all that great at fight scenes, but I tried my best! Btw, the salamander king is not really named Ajisuke (at least, I don't think so). You see, I got that name from the amazing story_ Houses of the Holy_, by HowdyU. It's one of my favorite stories, so go read it! The author calls Hanzo's salamander Ajisuke, and while I was writing this chapter I couldn't stop thinking about him as Ajisuke. Besides, I didn't want to call him 'the Salamander king' or 'the massive creature' all story. HowdyU did say on his profile that people could use parts of his stories if they wanted to, so I figured it would be okay if I took the name. I also based several parts of this chapter on _Houses_, because I had a lot of trouble with it.

Anyway, by next chapter this story will have a name, so hurry up and give me suggestions if you have any!!!! Please review!


	8. Blinded

**Chapter Seven: Blinded**

A/N: Hey everyone! So, as I said several chapters ago, I would have a title by chapter 7! At least, I think I said that! But as you probably know, I am a liar. I hoped to have a title, but I am seriously conflicted. I'm torn between the titles: Candle in the Wind, Wisp of Smoke, and To Bear the Wound of Wars. I was really hoping that someone could come forwards with an amazing title that would make my job easier, but since I posted this chapter right after chapter 6, I didn't give you guys a chance to review and give me suggestions. So if you want to offer more, or vote on one of the above titles, I'm going to have it named by chapter 8 (hopefully).

I'd like to thank everyone who offered a title. Although I can only chose one, I will consider every one very carefully, and no doubt have some serious moments of hair-pulling indecision. I'd also really like to thank my reviewers! I got a lot of feedback really quickly and I'm really grateful. In this chapter, I'm going to address some concerns that reviewers have had. The two that I will try to address are: Pain being brainwashed by Madara (thanks Obsidian Fire) and Sakumo needing a breaking point (thanks to RayneXHatake). I will try to fix your concerns in this chapter. If I fail epically, I'm counting on you guys to tell me! So, onto the final part of the battle with Hanzo. God, I really want him to just die. So please review!!!

* * *

Pain dodges a spear of ice that rose from the water, watching Hanzo and Ajisuke warily. The two have not moved for a long time, merely sending attacks his way while pooling their knowledge in a futile attempt to determine his abilities.

Without any means of communication, all six men suddenly lunge forwards, directly for their enemies. With black blades in their hands, they move to encircle the two.

He intends to finish this now, Hanzo realizes, and glancing up at Ajisuke, he knows that they are thinking the same thing. The massive salamander nods its huge head at him and suddenly sinks beneath the waves. Hanzo's hands flash through seals as the men close in on him.

The water suddenly becomes wild, massive waves coming out from the center of the lake where Hanzo stands. With an expression of intense concentration on his face, Hanzo sinks into the madly bubbling water. The meaning for this becomes clear as a huge tidal wave crashs over the six paths. As they are swept along in the current and separated, electricity begins to cover the surface of the water.

Concentrating chakra to his hands and feet, Deva Path begins to pull himself to the top of the water. But he is already too late. Hanzo appears in front of him with maliciously narrowed eyes and a spear of ice pierces Pain's body. His strange eyes open in shock and Hanzo relishes the surprise on his face. Suddenly Deva's eyes close and his mouth curves into a triumphant smile.

Hanzo turns startled, but it is already too late. From the corner of his eye, he can see Ajisuke swimming towards them but the salamander will not make it on time. The summoner brings his hands together and the other four appear in the water alongside him. Hanzo attempts to flee, but finds himself unable to move. Turning his head slightly, he sees Pain's hand outstretched.

The older man does the last thing he can. Ice springs up around him, a shield from the black swords. The squat man puts one hand on the ice and he begins to pull it away from Hanzo.  
_He's sealing my technique!_

Black eyes meet ringed ones as the four men bear down on him.

Pain smiles again.

_Checkmate._

Those eyes… so familiar… Memories flood his mind. That day on the cliff… the other rebel leader… A boy with red hair and another with ringed eyes! But the wrong boy has the eyes!

Hanzo's eyes widen in shock and he rips off his rebreather as the black blades pierce his armor.

His sharp mouth moves of its own accord.

"I know you!"

"Yes. I knew you would."

And then there is nothing but the weight of the water pressing down on him, and the empty stare of the man whom Hanzo had killed more than two years ago.

* * *

After the Naraka Path has healed Yahiko's body, the six Paths of Pain make their way to the water's edge where the others are watching. Madara stands lazily as Pain reaches the shore.

"How is the fight going?" Pain addresses Sakumo first.

"Not over yet, but the outcome is obvious." Sakumo nods his head towards the water. "Well done."

Pain inclines his head, the light of victory still shining in his eyes. Madara cuts in abruptly.

"The city is yours. Use it as you will. I'll contact you when Akatsuki is ready to be put into motion. Until then…" he walks past the silent trio. When the black-clad figure reaches the end of the street he disappears.

For a brief second Pain's eyes shine with barely suppressed anger before it vanishes as quickly as the Uchiha himself.

* * *

Sakumo walks briskly down the hallway of the tower. Despite being able to have much larger and more luxurious lodgings, Pain had chosen to remain here in order to better conceal his identity.

Pausing in front of a large door, he knocks softly. The sound echoes down the empty hall and Sakumo winces, not wanting any member of Akatsuki to come investigate.

"Come in," Pain calls quietly after a moment.

Sakumo pushes the door open. The room has been converted to an office, with shelves of books taken from Hanzo's own library and a mahogany desk. Pain sits behind the desk, scribbling rapidly on a scroll.

"I need to talk to you," Sakumo states plainly, sitting down across from the younger man.

"What about?" Pain looks up tiredly from his work. The strain of re-building and ruling the country is taking its toll on him.

Sakumo leans forwards. "Madara."

Now he has Pain's absolute attention. "What about him?"

For a moment, the White Fang pauses, not sure how to voice his worries. "Lately I've been having concerns about whether or not we're doing the right thing by following his orders."

A small frown settles on Pain's face. "What makes you say that?'

"Several reasons," Sakumo says, running his hand through his messy silver hair. "I feel like instead of accomplishing our goals, we've been reduced to his lackeys. We haven't got the freedom to move forwards with Yahiko's intentions because we're spending so much time doing Madara's dirty work."

Pain puts down his pen. He is wearing an expression far too severe for his young face. "This organization's goals will bring about peace, Sakumo. By gathering the bijuu and gaining a monopoly over all of the nations we can put an end to war. If we need to work with people we'd rather avoid, it is necessary in order to fulfill our goals."

Sakumo slams his hand down on the desk angrily. "Listen to you! You sound just like the Uchiha. We're not working with him, Nagato, he's _using_ us!"

"Then what do you propose we do?" Pain demands, his voice remaining calm even while angry. "Do you have an alternative method of completing our goals? And please refrain from calling me that."

Sakumo scoffs bitterly. "See? You're turning into exactly who he wants you to be! And has it ever occurred to you that all of this is a little too coincidental? Madara hears the conversation that we had with Yahiko in the cabin before we'd even met him, shows up perfectly on time after the fight with Hanzo, and already has everything set up to save your life?! I've let him have too much liberty to do what he wants with you and Konan! I'm putting my foot down now! I don't have any suggestions on how to fulfill our plans. But we can do it without Madara."

Pain is on his feet now. "I don't know why you're saying all of this! Madara has sped our goals along considerably."

"You are blinded by your promises to Yahiko!" Sakumo leaps to his feet, towering over the smaller man. "I understand what you want to do, hell I want peace just as much as you do, but this is not the way to bring it about! You have to open your eyes! Just because we want peace it doesn't mean that we should jump at the first opportunity to get it!"

"You don't understand." Pain's voice is icy.

"Enlighten me, then."

"You can't understand. If you knew Yahiko like I did, you would do the same thing! All of this, this is for my friend! I'm not going to let Madara use me for his own goals, I'll kill him when I'm done with him."

"I don't even recognize you anymore. Madara must be proud of his handiwork. You're completely brainwashed."

"You don't understand," Pain repeated again, this time almost to himself.

Sakumo watches him for a long moment. "Is this what Yahiko would have wanted?"

Pain's shoulders stiffen angrily. "You're not my father. Stop pretending to be."

"Then stop pretending to be Yahiko!" Sakumo didn't know what brought the words from his mouth, but Pain flinches as if stung. He lifts his head, Rinnegan eyes blazing.

"This is the way that I'm going to stop the wars. If you don't like it, you can leave!"

Sakumo's eyes widened in shock, but he recovers quickly. "All right then," he replies in a voice dripping with venom. "I will."

Without another word, the jounin turned and fled the room.

* * *

It has been two days since Sakumo had quarreled with Pain and left Ame. Now he sits huddled in a tiny cave, listening to his pursuers try to locate him in the rainstorm outside. He estimates that he was somewhere between Konoha and Suna. He had not left Ame far behind before he realized that he was being tracked. They were either ANBU or Hunter-nins, but from the skill that they showed they must be ANBU.

Sakumo listens for a long moment before rolling cautiously out of the cave. The rain here feels dirty and tainted without the slight feeling of Pain's chakra in every drop. The missing-nin runs quickly for the shelter of the trees, praying that he has not overlooked anyone's presence in the rain.

Suddenly, a man leaps out from the trees just ahead of Sakumo. He wears the standard armor issued to all in ANBU and a boar mask leers viciously at Sakumo. But Sakumo is not a legend for nothing. Snatching his sword from its holster, he sidesteps the charging man and with a quick blow he runs the man through.

From behind him he hears a shout of rage and tries to turn quickly. But with his tanto still stuck in the other's body, he finds himself vulnerable. Thinking quickly, he releases the tanto and throws the dying man at his attacker, whose armor marks him out as ANBU captain. The captain stumbles backwards, catching his comrade awkwardly. The dying man's flailing limbs hit the other in the face, knocking off his mask, which depicts a snarling white wolf.

And Sakumo stumbles backwards as Hatake Kakashi throws himself at his father, hatred blazing in his mismatched eyes, the wolf mask lying forgotten on the wet ground.

* * *

A/N: Ha ha! CLIFFHANGER! I am so evil. Sorry for how short it is! Anyway, please review!


	9. read this!

Very important author's note:

Hi everyone! I'm just typing this to tell you that Untitled is being redone. The new version, One of Us, is up in my profile and will be continued in Untitled's place. One of us is going to be very similar in some ways to Untitled and very different in other ways. Also, as you can see, I named the redone version of Untitled. If you're feeling ripped off because your name almost got selected for Untitled, check One of us (winkwinknudgenudge). Please review One of us and tell me if there's something that you want to suggest, or if there's something that I should watch out for this go around.

Thank you for reading my story!


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